Not Fair
by qfd
Summary: MA -When you're Pat Kane, picking up girls is easy but keeping 1 has never occurred to the young,single, rich & talented forward, until he meets his match in Beth who doesn't know or care who he is. But the road of life and love never runs smooth.
1. Chapter 1

_Oh, he treats me with respect, he says he loves me all the time_  
><em>He calls me fifteen times a day, he likes to make sure that I'm fine<em>  
><em>You know I've never met a man who's made me feel quite so secure<em>  
><em>He's not like all them other boys, they're all so dumb and immature<em>

_There's just one thing that's getting in the way_  
><em>When we go up to bed, you're just no good, it's such a shame<em>  
><em>I look into your eyes, I want to get to know you<em>  
><em>And then you make this noise and it's apparent it's all over<em>

_It's not fair and I think you're really mean_  
><em>I think you're really mean, I think you're really mean<em>  
><em>Oh, you're suppose to care<em>  
><em>But you never make me scream, you never make me scream<em>

_Oh, it's not fair and it's really not okay_  
><em>It's really not okay, it's really not okay<em>  
><em>Oh, you're supposed to care<em>  
><em>But all you do is take, yeah, all you do is take<em>

_Oh, I lie here in the wet patch in the middle of the bed_  
><em>I'm feeling pretty damn hard done by, I spent ages giving head<em>  
><em>Then I remember all the nice things that you ever said to me<em>  
><em>Maybe I'm just overreacting, maybe you're the one for me<em>

_(lyrics from "Not Fair" Lily Allen)_

_Prologue_

You meet a guy on a white sandy beach. He's cute. He's got a nice smile. You find out you're from the same city so you end up dating a guy and you like him. He's funny and he treats you like a princess. He's fun in bed, not great, but he can be taught. What's not to like?

The hot days of summer naturally turn to the cooler nights of Fall and that's when he lays it on you. He isn't staying in Buffalo. So it had just been a summer fling, you're kind of good with that. He'd been fun but he wasn't exactly a knight in shining armor. But just when you're expecting the big 'see ya next summer' speech, he puts on this big cheesy grin and pulls a key out of his pocket and asked you to move with him to the windy city.

_6 Weeks Previous_

"Wanna sign my cast?"

As a pick up line, it bordered on cute and so did the blonde blue eyed boy whose arm the cast belonged to. I looked down at the cast, at some of the crude pictures someone had drawn on it and then up at him and wrinkled my nose.

"Don't think so."

"Not even your number?" he asked, holding a Sharpie out to me. Who brings a pen with them to a bar, let alone a Sharpie like he's expecting to sign autographs or something? In the age of twitter, facebook and iPhones, a guy with a pen was not only an anomaly; it was downright strange and presumptuous in a cute kind of way.

"On your arm, for you to share with all your friends, why don't I just write it on the bathroom wall?" I chuckled and started to turn back to the bar where I was currently waiting for my drinks. It was a new line but he wasn't my type. He was stocky and blonde and clearly one of those beer guzzling co-ed types back for the summer from some southern party college to sponge off his parents and party with old friends. He was exactly the kind of guy I spent most of the summer fending off; guys that didn't fit into the blue collar crowd that made up the regulars at Casimir's; cops, rail workers and shift workers from the nearby Labatt's plant.

"Why don't I give you my number then?" he asked, reaching for one of the coasters on my tray. I arched my eyebrow at him.

"First of all, let's see some i.d. and second of all, what makes you think I'd want that?" I asked as I started to carefully slide the drinks onto my tray; two green apple martinis for the office girls in the back corner and another pitcher for the off duty cops playing pool.

"C'mon, look at this face, of course you do," the college boy said with a grin that I was willing to bet usually stopped traffic on whatever Ivy League campus he was home from; all straight white teeth and a cocky wink.

"Does that ever work for you?" I asked, carefully balancing my tray as I turned to head towards my tables.

"Are you saying it's not working for me now?" he asked, holding the coaster out to me like it was something I should want, like a get out of jail free card. I looked down at the coaster with the boyish scrawl and then up at his goldilocks curls and sky blue eyes and shook my head.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, but good luck with the other townies," I told him and walked past, making sure that I gave my hips an extra swing as I did. I could hear his entourage hollering about his epic failure and loudly giving him the gears about his inability to pull and I had the urge to turn around and tell them that it was unlikely that any of them in their polo shirts with the popped collars were going to have much luck in this place.

"Those guys giving you a problem Beth?" I slid the pitcher onto the raised table near the pool table and shook my head.

"Nothing I can't handle Jack," I told the fatherly traffic cop with the middle aged spread and the greying temples. He looked past me at the rowdy group of young men and looked ambivalent.

"Well you let me know if any of them get out of hand," he offered and I knew what he really meant was that if even one of them grabbed my ass he'd gladly pick them up by the backs of their two hundred dollar Tommy Hilfiger jeans and toss them and their loafers out into the parking lot. I smiled and took his ten bucks.

"You'll be the first to know," I promised, stuffed the bill into my apron and headed over to the pair of giggling secretaries who were eyeing the frat boys like somebody had just delivered a large pizza to a Jenny Craig meeting. "Ladies," I smiled as I put a coaster down in front of each of them.

"Do you know them?" one of the girls in her too tight pencil skirt and fussy silk blouse with the feminine ruffles asked. I glanced over my shoulder to find the one with the cast openly ogling my ass as I put their drinks down.

"Nope," I replied, taking the twenty she offered while I searched in my apron for a five to give back to her. "But you should definitely introduce yourselves. Should I drop them off a pitcher from you?" I suggested, holding the five out towards them and hoping they'd ask me to keep it and add another and then they'll push two tables together and order lots of beer and give me a big tip.

"Send a guy a drink?" the one girl with the too bright Barbie pink lipstick and the bottle blonde hair whose roots needed doing looked at me like I'd just asked to try out for the cheerleading squad. Like I'd ever be that stupid; with my boobs I'd end up with two black eyes before the first cheer was over.

"What was I thinking?" I smiled as she snapped the five out of my hand and then held her hand out for the other fifty cents, bitch. I dug two quarters from the deepest recesses of my apron and put them in her hand more gently than I really wanted to. "I'm sure they'll be over soon," I added in as sincere a tone as I could manage before I turned on my heel and headed for the table of factory workers who had just sat down.

"You shouldn't fight it," a voice purred in my ear. I didn't even miss a step but I did laugh.

"I'll give you an A for effort frat boy but why don't you try those girls back there," I suggested, pulling a pen from behind my ear and pointing back towards the secretaries, "they look like your type, cheap." I hesitated just a foot away from the table of big, hungry looking men. If I wanted a sizeable tip, and I did, I knew it wasn't going help to have an advertisement for teeth whitening and axe body spray hanging off me like toilet paper stuck on the bottom of my shoe.

"Let's face it, I'm the hottest guy in here and you're clearly the hottest girl, it was meant to be." He capped off his newest attempt by grabbing my wrist. I looked down at his where his fingers curled around my arm and then up at him and watched my displeasure dawn on his young face. "Okay, it's not cute anymore. Go play with your friends." He took his hand off my arm like he'd burnt it and turned and walked swiftly away. I shook my head and then painted on my best greet the customers smile and got out my order pad.

* * *

><p>She was fucking hot. I only had eyes for her from the minute me and the gang stumbled into the bar. We were slumming it, or at least I was. Back in the Windy City I would never hang out in a dive like the one my boys took me to that night but back home it was kind of fun to go hang out where the yokels did and just be one of the guys, just one more annoying privileged college kid home for the summer.<p>

That night we weren't necessarily on the pull, not that I was in the habit of turning down free pussy if it was offered. The goal that night was to get shit faced and probably go to the rippers and then stumble home and wake up the next afternoon and hit the gym. I had promised Coach Q that I'd come back in top shape, that I wouldn't use the cast on my wrist as an excuse to do nothing, get soft and out of shape. I knew I was on thin ice, not just with Coach but the other guys on the team and management too. Maybe I'd let the Cup get to my head...

Okay, I totally had. But fuck, I'd won the fucking Stanley Cup, I hadn't seen the reason to bust my balls to win it two years in a row. I'm not like Captain Stick Up His Ass; I actually like having fun and I'm definitely not busting my hump trying to get tied down. I like being free and I like chicks, all chicks...well hot chicks anyway and she was hot, even if the first thing I saw was just her ass.

She was leaning over the bar, waiting for an order, her ass wrapped in a tight black denim skirt and the artfully ripped black t-shirt revealing some kind of artistic scroll work on her lower back. She was bopping to some heavy rock song with a killer guitar riff and I couldn't take my eyes off that ass. First my guys dared me to go up and spank it but I knew that shit only worked back in the Windy City where I could pretty much get away with fucking anything. So when I turned down the first dare they upped the stakes. Tap it and I wouldn't have to pay for drinks for the rest of the weekend. Considering my accountant had just been on my ass about getting my spending under control I thought that was a bet I had to win.

She was having none of it though but when I saw that her auburn curls and bright green eyes were a match to her fabulous ass I was even more determined to win the bet. I may not be as competitive as Tazer but I don't exactly like to lose either. But when she shot me down for the third time and her eyes got all cold and she gave me that fuck off and die look, instead of deciding that she wasn't worth it and just getting out my credit card, I got my own game face on and sent my friends ahead to the strip club without me.

"I wouldn't bother man," the bartender warned when I asked when her shift ended. I shrugged, giving him one of those 'you don't worry me' grins that I've pretty much got down to a fine art. I'm not a big guy in a world of goons and I've pretty much managed to avoid using my fists so far.

"I'll take my chances," I told him, signing the visa slip and handing it back to him.

"Your funeral man," the guy smirked, separating my copy and handing it to me. I stuck my wallet in my back pocket and headed out the door to wait. She wasn't far behind me and I watched as she pulled her hair from the practical pony tail and shook it loose, sending waves of copper curls down over her shoulders. She was dragging her fingers through it as she looked up and saw me leaning against the passenger door of my H2.

"You're fucking kidding me." She stopped and rolled her eyes but she didn't turn and walk back into the bar or run away, both good signs as far as I was concerned. I couldn't help but smile.

"Drive you home?" I offered.

"In that pimpmobile?" she scrunched up her nose and it almost made me laugh. I feigned being hurt instead, clutching my chest.

"What's wrong with her? She's beautiful?" I cried and that made her laugh, even though she tried to cover her mouth and turn away. It was too late. I'd already seen it.

"If you drove that thing into my neighbourhood the cops would think you stole it," she told me seriously, "and if you dropped me off in that thing, they'd bust me for soliciting."

"I'll chance it if you will," I told her and meant it. I was getting an eyeful of her legs, long dancer's legs, legs with muscular calves that I was already imagining wrapped around me.

"Yeah well," she dug into her purse and pulled out a bus pass, "I'm not much of a gambler."

"C'mon," I tried appealing to her, pushing off from my Hummer and following her as she headed away from the bar and from me, "what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you take the bus this time of night. Who knows what kind of perverts and ruffians might be on the bus at this hour."

"Ruffians?" she stopped, turned and looked at me with a single, raised brow.

"What? It's a word," I grinned, not actually sure if it was or if it was something my dad had just called me when I was little. She pursed her lips and gave me one of those once over looks that had nothing to do with checking out what labels I was wearing or how big my biceps were and everything to do with trying to decide if I was a rapist. I could hear voices in my head that sounded a lot like my teammates laughing their asses off at my expense.

"Gentleman huh?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest and aiming this unimpressed look at me, her head tipped to the side, her curls falling over her bare shoulder. She'd taken off the ripped t-shirt and was now in just a tank top with thin spaghetti straps.

"You won't know unless you give me a chance," I offered, my arms out, giving her my best innocent look. She narrowed her eyes and gave me a long hard look before she heaved sigh and shrugged.

"I guess if my time is up, it's up." I felt like I'd won a game. I could feel the big goofy grin on my face and she rolled her eyes again at me but the corners of her mouth turned up and I could feel it in my bones. I was winning her over.

Not my Hummer though. Even as she climbed inside she looked thoroughly displeased with her surroundings. It was such a different reaction to the girls I usually picked up that it made me laugh which made her frown at me.

"What?" she asked, her arms once again crossed defensively in front of her.

"You hate my ride. You really do," I pointed out as I turned to look behind me as I backed her out of the now mostly empty parking lot.

"Well it's kind of...ostentatious and, besides, who needs anything this big?" she asked, giving me that look that, without saying it out loud, asked if I knew that I was trying to make up for not exactly being the tallest guy in the world.

"Ostentatious?" I repeated and she rolled her eyes again. Tazer does that to me sometimes. He also does it when a puck bunny I've brought for dinner makes a 'chicken of the sea' comment. That's why he never bothers to ask their names; he just calls them all Jessica, whether they have big boobs or not.

"So does it usually impress the girls you pick up?" she asked, not bothering to give me a definition. I'd guessed it wasn't good anyway.

"I guess," I replied casually. I knew that half the girls I picked up would have said so even if I'd been driving a Prius but I liked my ride and didn't much care if they did or not. It kind of impressed me that she didn't say she liked it just to make me happy though. It was kind of novel, like getting a new stick.

"So did you win the bet then?" she asked, turning to look at me when we cruised up to a stop light. I shrugged and she snickered. "Yeah, I guessed there was something like that going on. So what do you need for proof, my panties or something?"

"It's a _little_ more complicated than that," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the light; not because I was worried I'd blush like Captain Chastity Belt would have but because I didn't think the smirk on my face was going to help me get to what would win me the bet.

"Oh, I see. So _that's_ why you haven't asked me which way we should be heading?" she asked and I could feel her gaze boring into the side of my head like one of those drills they use on you at the dentist. "So you're not even going to ask me? You're just going to assume because I got in your fancy ride that I'll sleep with you?" she asked in a tone that was not very encouraging.

I glanced over at her, gave her my best, most dazzling 'trust me' smile and said, "yeah."

"Wow," she sat back and just stared at me, open mouthed. "What fucking school do you go to where this shit actually works?" I'd already figured out that she thought I was a frat boy and it was obvious she didn't recognize me and I didn't really think that putting her in the pictures was actually going to help me at this point, so I played along.

"Chicago," I said, not knowing the actual names of any of the schools.

"Wow, fuck off, and this shit actually works? This whole smooth operator shit you've been laying on me _actually_ works for you there? Wow," she shook her head and smiled. "I'm hella impressed."

"Thanks," I said and meant it which made her laugh, the kind of laugh that started with a snort and ended with her wiping tears from her eyes.

"Jesus, please tell me you're joking," she sighed, reaching for the sunshade, pulling it down and checking her mascara in the tiny lit mirror.

"About the lines working or that I want to fuck you?" I asked, straight up. She paused, one hand on the sun shade, the other under her eye.

"The lines," she said slowly and I grinned.

"Oh yeah, they do sometimes. I'm totally taking you home and fucking you though." She blinked, tucked the sun shade back up and gazed over at me.

"Uh huh. I got that," she smirked and then turned and stared out the passenger window and didn't say another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"This place?" It was a quiet, suburban street where all the windows were dark at the witching hour. It was a sweet two up two down peaked roof house that was probably from the fifties with a welcoming looking front door and an urn standing on a brick post at the end of a driveway that could have done with some TLC. I stared at it and imagined walking through that front door to be welcomed by his mother in curlers and fuzzy slippers.

"Yep," he replied, pulling the key from the ignition and reaching for the handle on the inside of the driver's door.

"Wait..._you _live here?" It definitely wasn't the kind of run down place that college kids usually rented, even though, on second glance I realized a giant addition had been added.

"Yeah," he answered again, grinning over at me like I'd asked something funny. Like there could be any other answer to that question. I glanced up the driveway again and shook my head.

"let me guess, with your parents, right?" I asked, already feeling the answer in my bones.

"Well yeah, and my sisters," he answered as if I should have known it and, more remarkably, like it wasn't weird to bring a random hook up home in the wee hours of the night to mom and dad.

"Oh _hell_ no," I snapped, sitting back in the black leather seat, crossing my arms and staring straight ahead. "I am not going into your parents' house."

"Mine's the one above the garage," he pointed out, like it mattered, like it made one damn bit of difference to me.

"Look, I was only going along with this...," I bit off the next words that had nearly spilled from the tip of my tongue. He didn't need to know about my personal life and exactly what a shit storm it was. I didn't feel like telling him that the best way I knew how to get over someone was to get under someone else. I just wanted to hook up and then roll out and forget about him. I wasn't up for pancake breakfast and small talk with mom and dad. "Y'know what, I'll just call a cab. Where am I?" I pulled my phone out and started to call but he reached over and took it out of my hand.

"We can go back to your place, if that's what you want." I stared at my phone and then at him and shook my head. I didn't like sharing my bed. It wasn't exactly a phobia, it was just that I liked to roll over onto cool sheets, not a wet spot and I didn't like having a blast furnace next to me either. "Okay, a hotel then," he offered and I blinked at him. He'd gone from cool and confident to desperate and it made me look at him differently.

"A hotel?"

"I'll pay," he offered, pulling his wallet out and flashing what looked a hell of a lot like a platinum card to me.

"Y'mean Daddy'll pay," I mumbled, looking at the card and considering a night spent between clean sheets on a mattress that didn't have hills and valleys. "Yeah, okay fine," I grumbled and his whole face lit up like a kid who'd just got his first bike.

"Okay," he grinned and fished in his pocket for his keys, stuffing them back in the ignition and putting his foot to the floor.

* * *

><p>I knew exactly what the girl at the front desk was thinking as I handed her my credit card and signed us in. I ignored her disapproving look, mostly because <em>she<em> did, even though she was pretty preoccupied with checking out the lavish lobby. Of course she'd noticed the way the front desk clerk had looked down her nose at us. She definitely had, but she wore the same tight lipped expression Tazer did when he was ignoring someone he didn't want to talk to.

"Ready?" I asked, flashing the security card at her. She shrugged one bare, milky white shoulder at me and then followed me to the elevators. We didn't talk when the doors closed. She watched the numbers light up over our heads as she leaned against the back wall. This would usually be the point where the drunken puck fuck I'd dragged back to a hotel on the road would be on her knees giving me head or at least draped all over me, sticking her tongue in my ear and pawing me. For a brief moment I wondered what the hell I was doing here and then the doors opened and she stepped out into the hallway, turned and looked expectantly at me.

"Well, are we doing this or what?" she asked and then strode down the hallway like a model on a runway, with her long, toned bare legs mesmerizing me so that I ended up happily stumbling after her like a kid being lead along a trail of cookie crumbs.

"Do you want a drink or something? Are you hungry? We could get room service," I suggested as I slid the card through the reader and watched the three little lights go green. I pushed the door open and turned to look for her answer which is when she slammed me up against the wall and kissed me.

Not like I was about to complain. I'd been trying to figure out how to make the transition from not touching to getting down to it anyways so I was completely good with her making the first move. I heard the door click shut behind me as I went for her ass and cursed my cast as I tried to grab hold. There was nothing sexy or smooth about shoving my cast against her ass, but she didn't seem to mind or at least she didn't show any signs of being put off by it. In fact she grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me into the room, right back to the bed.

"You have something, right?" she whispered into my ear as she backed up onto the bed and bit down on my earlobe.

"Of course," I replied, reaching down to tug her tank top up over her head. I hadn't been without protection in my wallet since I was thirteen and not just because I'd been precocious as a kid but because puck bunnies start picking out the talent early, hoping to hitch a ride to the big show. I plucked a foil square from my wallet and she nodded, taking it from my hand and climbing off the bed.

I didn't argue when she reached for the zipper on my pants. I've been given head more times than I can count and I enjoy the fuck out of it every time. Getting head's like eating pizza, even when it's bad it's pretty good. Not that I was worried about her being bad at it. The way she took control, the way she dove right in and grabbed hold of what she wanted told me she was going to be a fucking pro.

I moaned out loud when her tongue swirled around the head of my dick like she was licking cheap ice cream, the kind you've got to get through fast because it melts so damn quick. I dug my good hand into her hair, wrapping that copper silk around my fingers, not with the intention of doing more than making sure I had a good view of a pro at work but one warning look from those green eyes of hers' and I didn't give her so much as a tug as she swallowed me whole.

I wasn't rock hard yet. I've been with too many chicks to get hard too fast. I can make it half way through a porn film before I get really hard, unless the chick is super hot or diving down on some other chick, in which case I'm like a thirteen year old all over again. I kind of liked that she took me in over her tongue when I was half soft. It felt kind of cool for her to suck on it like that, to get hard in her mouth while she rolled my balls in one hand and stroked the back of my thigh with her other hand.

I like watching my dick go in and out of a girl's mouth. I don't know what it is but it's fucking hot. I know not all chicks like it, some treat it like a chore, like washing dishes, something that just has to be done and they get to it but you just know by the way they just spend all the time moving you in and out over their tongue that they're not into it. Then there are chicks like this one that have turned giving a blow job into fine art. She used her tongue and her teeth and her lips and her hands. A little nibble there, a long, slow, deliberate lick there and then she pursed her lips and blew across the divot on the head of my cock and I fucking shuddered.

"Damn baby," I grinned down at her, "that's fucking hot."

"Jesus Christ you sound like Paris fucking Hilton," she laughed as she grabbed the foil packet and the next thing I knew I was gloved up, her fist at the base of my dick. "We'll see how hot you are," she added, reaching back to undo her bra and shrugging it off like it was nothing to see her tits. I don't care how old you are, five or fifty, it's always good to see a pair of boobs.

"Hey, slow down baby," I said, reaching to stop her as she went to unzip her denim skirt, "it's not a race. Believe me, I can last all night," I told her with what I knew was my cockiest grin, the one that made so many guys want to slap my mouth guard out on the ice.

"Sure," she said and peeled her skirt off so that she was standing there in a pair of black panties, nothing special, just black cotton bikini panties with a little bow on the front. They weren't the kind of panties that girls usually wore when they wanted a guy's attention but for some reason, on her they seemed sexy. She wasn't wearing a lot of make-up either, a little lip gloss that was gone now and some eyeliner and mascara I was guessing, but from what I could tell, nothing else. She kind of gave off this hot girl next door vibe and for just a minute I thought about Tazer and how he was always wishing that girls would make less of an effort. "Well?" she asked and stared expectantly at me.

I looked down at my pants pooled around my ankles and had to waddle to the bed to pull my vans off so I get my socks and pants off. Last was my shirt and the minute I pulled it over my head she made a noise. It wasn't a gasp but it was the kind of noise that said she was surprised to see definition and muscle where I'm guessing she'd expected a bit of a beer gut.

I don't work out like a fiend the way some guys do or at least the way Tazer does, like it's the most important part of his day, aside from playing. I can always come up with something else I'd rather be doing. But this year I'd promised to show up at training camp in better shape and of course there'd been those less than flattering pictures making their way around the internet that a lot of the guys had been giving me the gears about, calling me soft and other, worse, things.

I gave a little flex and it was too much. She rolled her eyes, turned around and hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties then shimmied out of them. I kept my mouth shut and didn't let a comment fly about her ass, even though I appreciated the view. It went with her legs, the kind of ass you could definitely bounce a quarter off of, tight and muscular but still feminine. I wanted to grab it and slide my dick into her pussy from behind just so I could put my hands on it but I didn't, because the view she replaced it with was even better.

She turned over and lay there on her back, waiting for me and I think I stood there too long just appreciating the view but it was hard not to. In fact it was hard to ignore the urge to grab my phone, take a picture and send it to the guys asking what they were doing for their summer vacation. She was tanned just about everywhere and the thin tan lines on her hips and around her tits were like highlights, like 'read here' and I did as I crawled eagerly up onto the bed and immediately closed my lips around one of her dark pink nipples.

* * *

><p>His kisses were sloppy, all sort of wet and off center like an eager puppy's. I was half afraid when he latched onto my boob like a hungry baby that he might try and go down on me and it would be one of those all style and no slam dunk moments but luckily he just got between my thighs and rammed his cock home like a heat seeking missile.<p>

He wasn't going to earn any style points there either. He grabbed both of my legs, pressed them as far apart as they would go and just sort of, went to town. He watched himself going in and out of me like he was impressed with himself, as if that was the best part of show. He didn't make a move to change positions, the angle, or, god forbid, touch me at all. I waited, lying there, being serviced as if I were no more than a blow up doll and wondered what in the hell I was doing this for. Tristan had friends who would have gladly agreed to enter into a little revenge sex, guys I knew by reputation would have been better than this. Hell, there was a waitress back at the bar that I'd been told swung both ways that, in that moment, I was thinking had to have been better than this.

"Let me be on top," I breathed, scooting back so that he slid out. He grinned, like I'd just handed him a cookie and flopped down onto his back so hard that he bounced. His boyish enthusiasm was kind of cute but what I wanted right then wasn't cute. What I wanted was to get off with the fewest complications.

"Oh yeah baby, ride 'em cowgirl!" he grinned up at me as I lowered myself down over him. He wasn't big and he stuck straight up like a flag pole so it didn't take any special manoeuvres. I put my hands flat on his chest and rocked my hips forward so my clit pressed against his pelvic bone. I bit down on my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. "Oh yeah, you like that huh baby?" he asked and I reached forward and pressed my fingers against his lips.

"Shut up," I hissed and rocked my hips again, harder this time, hard and fast. I gasped out loud this time and I could see his answering grin even behind my fingers. He pressed up into me and I gasped again. That I hadn't expected. I'd sort of thought he'd just lie there and let me do all the work but he grabbed my hips and forced himself up into me, once, twice and I couldn't help it. I leaned back and watched his abdominals work as he fucked me.

"Oh yeah, you like that," he grinned, ignoring my scowl as I dug my fingernails into his thighs.

"Do you always talk this much?" I hissed at him and he laughed, actually laughed. Then, with one powerful movement that no guy I'd ever been with had ever been able to do, he rolled me onto my back and kept pumping. I was impressed and maybe for a moment a little breathless and I'm pretty sure he took that as encouragement. He started grunting and slamming into me like he was trying to fuck into the mattress.

I didn't want to but I liked it. It was exactly what I needed. I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies coming together like two prizefighters standing toe to toe in the middle of the ring and scrapping it out. By the time I was getting close sweat was beading on his forehead and I could feel my own running down between my breasts.

Snaking my hand between his body and mine I pressed my fingertips against my clit and immediately felt my entire body snap to attention. His eyes got wide and he stared at me like he couldn't believe what I was doing, like no girl had ever had the need, or I was guessing, the stones, to get herself off but he was beyond actually putting the question that was clear in his eyes into actual words.

His breathing had gotten ragged and his pupils were huge. His face had gone all red and I could tell he no longer had control over his body. He was slamming into me, balls deep, with complete abandon and I was working my clit like I was trying to erase it. When his eyes rolled back in his head I was right behind him and when he roared like a lion at feeding time at the zoo I let my own cry loose, my body arched up off of the bed and all I could see behind my eyelids were pretty patterns.

* * *

><p>I woke up yawning and stretching and face down in pile of pillows that looked like they'd been used in a sorority pillow fight. The once crisp white sheet was wrapped around my legs so tight I had to kick and twist to get free enough to reach my phone as it tried to vibrate off the edge of the bed side table. I pulled it across the empty bed and peered, one eyed, at the screen. It was Kaleta which meant I was late for the gym.<p>

"Sorry dude," I yawned, "I guess I slept in."

"_Yeah, yeah, play another song Kaner. Get your ass in gear_." I made another noise and turned over, intending to apologize to the lovely waitress I'd fucked the stuffing out of, only to find the side of the bed I'd expected to find her on empty.

"Huh...dine and dash."

"_What the fuck are you talking about_?" Kaleta asked, sounding bored. I could hear weights clinking in the background, which meant he was already at the gym, which meant I was really late. Our usual meeting spot was a coffee shop down the block.

"Girl I took...well the girl I was with last night...she's gone," I explained, sitting up and running my fingers through my hair.

"_Aaaand_?" Kaleta queried, still sounding like I was putting him to sleep and irritating the shit out of him at the same time. He should get together with Tazer, they could have a Kane bitch and moan fest.

"Well I dunno, I'm usually the one bugging out before they wake up," I explained, looking around the room for a sign that I was wrong, that she still might be here somewhere, just maybe on a trip down the hallway for ice or something.

"_Count your lucky fucking stars_," he snorted and I could see his smirk from here. "_Like you were gonna ask for her number anyway. Now if you've finished acting like a fucking girl, get your butt to the gym_" he added and then promptly hung up.

I put my phone face down and lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. The smell of sex still hung in the air and cock stirred at the memory of waking up in the middle of the night, rolling over and slipping between her thighs, feeling that tight dancer's ass pressing back against me as I fucked her from behind. Her pussy had been tight like a virgin's but she was definitely not one of those. I could still feel her mouth around my joint and the thought made me smile as I slid one hand down under the covers and...

My phone vibrated across the bed. I reached out with my free hand and grabbed it. It was a text from Kaleta.

_Don't go back to sleep!_

"Fuck, I'm up, I'm up," I grumbled and then thought about what I'd started and smiled to myself. "Maybe just a few more minutes."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Where'd you get to last night?" My jaw clenched and my hand closed in a fist over the ten dollar bill I'd just been handed. "I came by to give you a ride home but you were gone already. Did you go out with the girls?" It probably sounded like an innocent question, from one friend to another but I knew better. I could hear the underlying menace in his voice.

"Yeah, that's right," I lied, mostly because it was none of his business and as much as it had seemed like a good idea to me at the time to go home with that college kid, I'd woken up in an entirely different frame of mind and no longer felt like throwing that particularly disappointing event in Tristan's face.

"You should have let me know," he continued, following me to the bar where I handed over the bill and the next order.

"I don't have to report my movements to you T. You gave up the right to know what I do and where I do it when you slept with Candy." Just saying her name made me grind my teeth. I hadn't cared that my roommate was a stripper; her body, her life, at least until I caught her giving my boyfriend a free lap dance.

"Sugar, come on now, you're not still mad about that are you?" Dylan, the bartender did his best not to laugh and kept pouring the beer while I rolled my eyes.

"No, you know what T, I'm totally fine with it now. I mean, really I should be thanking you for helping me see the light and realizing what a complete fucking douchebag you are," I turned and grinned malevolently at him, "but that doesn't mean that I've suddenly developed a serious case of the stupids and want to get back together," I added before turning to grab the pitcher of beer and the four glasses to go with it.

"I thought you'd join in," he whispered in my ear, the whiskey he'd been drinking making my eyes burn, his breath heavy and warm on my neck. "I know you're kinky like that," he added, putting his meaty paws on my waist.

"Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me." It wasn't a request but when Dylan reached for the section of the counter he could lift and immediately be on our side of the bar I shook my head. I didn't like other people fighting my battles for me.

"Baby, you know you don't want that," he purred in my ear and pressed himself up against my back. I grimaced, fighting the urge to toss my cookies.

"_Now_ Tristan," I insisted as firmly as I could without actually screaming it.

"Hey, jerk off, hands off my girlfriend." I looked up at Dylan as soon as I heard the voice and he had the strangest expression on his face, like when you move a dog's food bowl and they're just confused.

"Well this should be interesting," he mused and then stepped back from the counter and crossed his arms over his considerable chest. I frowned at him, just to let him know that while I didn't think I needed his help yet that I didn't appreciate being abandoned altogether and then I peeked around Tristan's bulk to see the kid from last night standing about a foot away with the same cock sure grin on his face that I'd wanted to slap off his face.

"Oh god," I breathed, closed my eyes and put my hands on the bar. "He is _sooo_ gonna get killed." Admittedly the kid was built better than I'd first given him credit for but he was still a pipsqueak in comparison to the man who still had a firm grip on my waist. Tristan had a pansy name, at least according to his friends, but there was nothing pansy about the six foot four diesel mechanic. He was built like a security gate, tall, broad and impenetrable.

I felt Tristan's hands withdraw from my waist and waited for the sound of his knuckles breaking bone. It took a minute, but what I heard instead was him laughing.

"You're fuckin' kidding right?" I didn't know if the question was aimed at me or at the kid but I kept my mouth shut and used the distraction the college boy was providing to slip under the divider and behind the bar.

"Who's the kid?" Dylan asked, still leaning against the back counter as if he was getting ready to watch a fashion show and not a prize fight.

"A stray I made the mistake of taking home," I sighed. I heard Dylan chuckle under his breath and heaved another sigh. "Yeah, I know, I bring this shit on myself."

* * *

><p>I didn't like the way he was holding her and I especially didn't like the way he was breathing on her neck. I'd almost turned around and had plans to offer the flowers I'd purchased to the first homeless person on the street and then I heard her growl at him. I'd dug the way she'd growled at me in bed. It was hot. But when she growled at him I suddenly heard my sisters and fear in her voice and the big brother in me took over.<p>

"Hey, jerk off, hands off my girlfriend." I knew I probably should have just told him to take a step back but as Sharpie is over fond of pointing out, I rarely think before I speak.

I watched the guy let go of her and turn around. It was kinda like the first time John Scott walked into our dressing room. I looked up and found myself staring into the guy's chest. I had to look up again to actually look into the guy's eyes.

"You're fuckin' kidding right?" the guy sneered at me. I play with and against guys that are big like this fucker was and I know better than to show fear but on the other hand, I'm also used to having someone bigger than me back me up. "Does your mommy know you're out this late slugger?" he sniggered, reaching out to pat me on the head, or mess my hair, either way I blocked it with my cast. It hurt. I winced. He laughed. "Hey Bethie honey, get this kid a lollipop." His big hand reached to swat her ass but she wasn't there. She was already on the other side of the bar.

"C'mon T, don't be such an ass," she sighed and I was disappointed to see pity in her eyes. She really thought this big meathead was going to beat the snot out of me and she felt sorry for me.

"Aw c'mon sugar, I'm just havin' some fun with the little guy," he crooned at her like he really meant it, like he hadn't had murder in his eyes when he'd looked at me. "I mean, c'mon, you wouldn't _really_ sleep with him." I looked around him at her and watched the blood creep up her neck and into her face. He must've seen the same thing because his hands curled into fists the size of small houses. "Aw shit, you're kidding me right? This fuckin' pipsqueak?"

"Fuck off T, just leave him alone, please?" It stung, having a chick plead for my life. I could hear the guys in my head howling with laughter right now.

"Hey, I'm over here," I reminded him, probably unadvisedly. I could hear Coach Q in my head telling me to stop picking fights I had no chance of winning and that there's only so many times that speed and agility are going to win before someone much bigger than me puts my head through the boards.

"What'd you do pipsqueak?" the big guy asked and then flexed his chest muscles so that for a long moment I was sure he was about to Hulk out, that his t-shirt was going to actually give and rip away from his juiced up torso. "Did you pay her cuz I can't see any other way except maybe a pity fuck my Bett would get into bed with a guy like you." I didn't like when he said it but one glance in her direction told me she liked being spoken about as a piece of this goon's property even less than I did. She made a move but the bartender put one hand on her arm and she went still. I guessed right then that I was in it alone; just me and my cast, no Seabs, no Rat and no Buff to back me up.

"Well if you call it a pity fuck to ride me half the night like and wear my ass out then shucks, I guess I'll take it," I grinned up at the big gorilla and watched his cocky smile fade around the edges. I knew it was going too far even as I did it but I couldn't quite stop myself from giving it that old ass slap and grind motion. It was one of those stand bys that you go to when you're a guy, like all those times I tease Tazer about his mom being a MILF. I know it's the wrong thing to do but it's just too funny not to do it.

I ducked when the guy made a grab for me and it might have been one of the only times that my size and speed came in handy off the ice. I dodged and weaved while the big guy stumbled around after me like he had two left feet until I managed to get a table between him and me and I thanked the big guy up above that this was a rough enough area of town that the tables were bolted to the floor.

He stared at me, his nostrils flaring and all the veins in his neck and head bulging out and I wondered if this was going to be it, a headline in tomorrow's paper about me dying in a bar brawl. I could hear the sports guys laughing right now, thinking I deserved it. But just when I thought he'd just reach over the table and grab me by the collar he straightened up, shook it off and went back to looking unimpressed.

"Well if she's gone all gold digger on me, I guess you're welcome to her pansy boy."

I watched him walk out of the bar, relieved that he hadn't turned me into a wet spot on the floor but also wondering why he'd suddenly changed his mind. There were a few Hawks fans in Buffalo, not many, but there was a chance I'd just run into one.

"Wow, you must have horseshoes up your ass." I turned to see her pouring a shot of something thick and golden into a shot glass, which she quickly downed and then poured another.

"It has been suggested," I admitted, thinking of all the times that other guys had taken a beating I'd probably...no, undoubtedly deserved.

"You probably should keep going while you're ahead and make yourself scarce before he changes his mind, comes back and beats your ass," she added, pouring a second shot which she pushed towards me. She eyed the flowers that were still in my hand. I held them out towards her. "Really?" she managed to look embarrassed and nonplussed all at the same time.

That had been my reaction when I'd stopped at a flower shop to the buy them too. I wasn't normally...well, ever, moved to buy flowers even for girls I dated, which I hardly did but I had never, and I mean _never_ bought them for a chick I'd just banged, no matter how hot she was.

"What? A gentleman can't buy a girl some flowers?" I'm pretty sure I'd heard Stalberg use that line, or maybe it had just come to me but either way, she took them, stuck her nose in the top of the bouquet and then turned her back on me. I was pretty sure she was just pretending to look for something to put them in while she tried not to look too impressed. I was willing to bet that big guy with the full ink sleeves had never bought her so much as a single rose.

Point to me.

"So you're still going with that whole gentleman shtick?" she asked once, I guess, she had her expression under control and pulled an empty jug from beneath the bar which she then began to fill with water.

"Well I guess that depends," I replied, leaning over the bar just a little, getting my schmooze on and getting in her space at the same time which wasn't easy with a bar between us. "Will you go out for dinner with me?" I hadn't planned to ask her when I came in despite having stopped to buy flowers. I hadn't really known why I'd come back looking for her, except for maybe a second helping of pretty earth shattering sex.

"I'm working," she answered quickly. She had a point. The bar was starting to fill up but then again, I had no place that I needed to be.

"I can wait," I told her, pulling a ten from my wallet. "I'll be right down at that end of the bar when you get off." She gave me a long hard look and for a moment I was sure she was getting ready to tell me to bounce but finally, as she dumped the flowers into the jug, she shrugged.

"If you're still here," she mumbled.

"I will be," I told her with a grin. "Bring me a beer when you're ready."

* * *

><p>Every damn time I looked up that night his eyes were on me. It was a little creepy but at the same time I kept thinking about how he'd stood up to Tristain, right up to where he hid behind a table, and I was at least half impressed. The flowers had put him over the edge. I was pretty sure the last guy to buy me flowers had probably been my dad the day I'd graduated from high school. That, I kept telling myself, was the only reason I hadn't shooed the kid away yet; he'd tugged on one of my only sentimental strings. That and he kinda had the whole eager puppy vibe down to a science.<p>

Or maybe, I told myself as I grabbed my coat from behind the bar, it had been the way he'd fended off the advances of at least a dozen blondes with better bodies than mine while he'd been waiting for me. If he'd done it on purpose just to get on my good side, he'd done a fantastic job.

"So I know this place," he said, appearing at my side as I stepped out onto his side of the bar.

"Oh yeah," I mused, heading towards the exit, "another hotel room?"

"I was actually thinking about this diner I know but...whatever the lady wishes," he replied with that crooked smartass half smile.

I wasn't in a rush to get back into bed with him so I opted for the diner where I sat nursing a blueberry tea and a piece of apple pie while he gobbled down a couple of burgers and a whole plate of fries like he was a starving kid from Africa, or a growing teenage boy.

"High metabolism," he explained with a grin as he wiped ketchup from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That won't last forever," I told him, wondering if his father was the size of a Mac truck.

"Can I get you anything else...Patrick?" the waitress, who to my eyes didn't look old enough to be working this late, had been eying him like a piece of candy ever since we'd walked into the place. He looked up at her and gave her one of his dazzling boyish smiles.

"You want anything else, Bett?" he asked and turned that smile onto me. It really was like being in the centre of a spotlight. It made me want to squirm right under the table and hide except that I'd never been a fan of girls like her in school and if I had something one of them wanted for once, I wanted to rub it in.

"Just you sugar," I purred and reached over to stroke my hand across the back of his, remembering too late that it was the one with the ketchup on it.

"Cheque please," he grinned up at her and she made a face at me that would have made Medusa proud. The minute her back was turned I grabbed a napkin and wiped off my sticky fingers while he pulled his wallet out.

"Geez does George Costanza know you stole his wallet?" I asked as he pressed a pair of twenties into her outstretched hand and then, with a flourish, added a five.

"I've got important stuff in here," he replied with a wink, tugging just the corner of a foil condom packet out of one of the sections. I rolled my eyes. "So where to?"

"My place," I muttered, sliding out of the booth and doing my best to ignore his 'hit the jackpot' grin.

* * *

><p>It had been done to me but I still felt just a little guilty as I pulled back the sheet to reveal the full length of her sleeping body so I could take a picture with my phone. She wasn't Playboy hot but she was hot enough that I knew texting a picture of her to Tazer would give him spanking material for a week. As I dropped the sheet back over her shoulder she yawned and rolled over, giving her back to me in the tiny double bed against the far wall of her equally tiny bachelor apartment. I hadn't been in an apartment this small since I'd played for the Knights.<p>

I rolled out of the bed and went looking for something to do. There was no Playstation, no Xbox, not even a Wii. There was a small TV, probably nineteen inch, and a few dvd's piled beside it, none of them porn. I shuffled through them and decided that the period dramas would probably put me to sleep when what I really was, was hungry.

There wasn't much in the tiny galley kitchen either. There was a lot of bottled water in the fridge, a block of marbled cheese and bunch of apples. I took an apple and bit into it, letting the tart juice run down the back of my throat. I would have preferred left over pizza or even cold spaghetti but after a couple of bites my stomach stopped growling.

What there was a lot of in the apartment were bookcases, overflowing bookcases. I looked at some of the titles of the well worn, dog eared paperbacks and made a face. Most of them were that kind of stuff they try and make you read in high school that you just end up buying the Coles notes to do your book report with. There was Dickens, Brontë, Austen, Shakespeare, the lot. Not a single dime store romance novel like I usually found in the collections of the girls I banged.

My phone vibrated in my hand, almost causing me to drop it. I'd forgotten I was still holding it. There was a text from Tazer.

'_She's too good for you I can tell from here'_

I smirked and put back a coverless copy of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

'_It's my dick she sucked'_ I sent back and laughed to myself. I knew what the response was going to be before my phone vibrated again.

'_Loser_' was the exact reply I'd expected. I was about to send back another text, I was just trying to think of a good name to call him when I heard a rustle of sheets and then her bare feet hitting the floor. She rounded the corner, wiping sleep from her eyes and then stopped and stared at me.

"I thought you'd left," she muttered and just for a second I thought she looked disappointed.

"No babe, I'm still here," I told her and offered her what was left of the apple I'd been eating. She waved me off and went to the fridge where she took out a bottle of water, twisted off the cap and downed it like she'd just done a two minute shift. I watched her neck work as she swallowed and followed the long line of her neck down to her tits with their rosy pink nipples and felt my body stir in appreciation. I tossed the apple core into the kitchen sink as I monitored a drop of ice cold water sliding down over her collarbone, right before I caught it with my tongue.

I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto the counter. She looked a little startled but mostly bemused as I settled myself between her thighs.

"Don't you ever get tired?" she asked. I grinned and shook my head and slid my cock home.


	4. Chapter 4

_all this hockey every night doesn't give a girl a lot of free time to write!  
><em>

Chapter 4

"I don't think I heard you right. I thought you said he bought you a bed? Like a whole bed with mattresses and everything." I rolled my eyes and continued to wipe down the table that had just been vacated by a group of patch wearing bikers. There was so much beer on the floor it was difficult not to leave my shoes behind as I pocketed the ten dollar bill they'd left beneath the emptied pitcher.

"Well he's mostly been staying at my place and neither of us has been getting much sleep..." A chorus of wolf whistles drowned out my explanation and I flipped the bird towards my work mates as moved to the next table and swept a handful of peanut shells onto the floor. I could have argued the point but the enormous hickey on my neck that made me feel like I was back in grade ten made it impossible for me to. "I was fine with something from the thrift store but he ordered it from some la-dee-dah furniture store and had it delivered and everything," I added, details which had impressed the hell out of me. Having always had hand me downs, a brand new mattress was a luxury beyond words to me, let alone the kind with a pillow top that had probably cost more than I'd made in six months.

"So did you break it in yet?" Dylan asked, crudely miming taking a girl from behind and swatting her ass. I pressed my lips firmly together to stop myself from blurting out just how many times I'd shown my gratitude.

"Look at her face! She's been riding him like she's trying to break _him_ in," the other server, Hannah, called from across the bar. I turned to face the wall. I wasn't used to being the one being teased and I felt flames licking at the inside of my cheeks. I did not, however, deny it.

"You're just jealous," Dylan told Hannah, grabbing my wrist and holding up my arm as I slid my change box back onto the bar. "When's the last time a guy you dated bought you something like this?" I looked up at the bangle hanging from my wrist, the bright white gold Tiffany bracelet with the star pendant catching the light. I'd been impressed with flowers but since then I'd gotten kind of used to being treated like I'd always imagined Cinderella must have felt like when she met her Prince Charming.

Not that I thought Pat was a keeper, despite all the lavish gifts and his flash car. I knew he was going back to whatever college he came from in September. That didn't mean I couldn't enjoy being treated like a princess for once in my life.

"I can't think of the last time I wasn't the one paying for dinner," Hannah admitted with a sigh, dropping her rag and change box on the bar. "Of course I've never been lucky enough to catch a frat boy slumming it on the wrong side of the tracks," she added with a wink. She didn't have to let me know she was teasing, especially because I happened to agree with her.

"So is he picking you up again tonight?" Dylan asked as he counted our change boxes into the float.

"He is," I confirmed, untying my apron and stashing it under the bar, exchanging it for my leather jacket and my purse.

"Where's he taking you tonight?" Hannah asked, sipping on some brightly coloured drink through an equally brightly coloured crazy straw.

"He said somewhere special but he said I didn't have to dress up...like I could," I added, inwardly wincing at the memory of the way the head waiter at Fiamma had looked down his nose at me and my summer dress. Pat hadn't seemed to notice, or mind but that didn't mean I hadn't felt about two inches tall.

"Speak of the devil," Dylan glanced towards the doorway where the light had just caught his goldilocks blonde curls. My heart didn't miss a beat but I smiled at him and the stupid popped collar on his golf shirt.

"Ready dollface?" he asked, leaning at the end of the bar and making no attempt to hide the fact that he was checking out my legs. I rolled my eyes.

"Ready," I replied, sliding my arms into my jacket. There was no use thinking he'd help. He wouldn't. It wouldn't even occur to him.

* * *

><p>"No...no, no. No way." She shook her head and pressed her lips together in an unhappy line.<p>

"Just tonight...there's kind of a...a _thing_," I tried to explain. My parents always did this the night I left. They'd been doing it for years and my mother would have had a stroke if I'd missed it but I had my reasons for insisting on Beth being my plus one.

"A thing?" she repeated and glanced up at the house. There was a ton of cars on the street and in the driveway. I could hear the music and raised voices from here.

"Yeah, a _casual_ thing," I insisted, reaching for her hand across the vehicle. We didn't hold hands, much anyway, so she glanced down at mine as it covered hers' as if it was something foreign, strange.

"Why do I feel like I'm being railroaded?" she asked. I shrugged. I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that but her tone was accusatory enough that I didn't figure I needed to. She didn't want to go up the driveway and I hadn't told her the truth about the party or me so, if what it was wasn't good then she was probably right anyway.

"C'mon, it'll be fun." She rolled her eyes and immediately reminded me of the last time I'd said those words to Tazer the last time we went to a strip club and I talked him into going into the champagne room. I've never seen a guy's face get that red before...or since come to think of it.

She held my hand voluntarily all the way into the backyard, mostly out of fear I'm guessing, but the minute my sisters jumped me she let my hand go like I'd burned her and her wide kitten eyes got narrow...fast.

"Hi I'm Jessie, you must be Beth!" My middle sister hugged her like she was a long lost relative and then stepped aside and let Rickie and Jacquie do the same. Beth stood there like a totem pole, staring daggers at me. I smiled back. They're my sisters. It had to happen sometime, and besides, I knew there was worse to come.

"We thought you'd ditched us," my youngest sister, Jacquie gave me a dark look, her hands on her hips, trying to give me the whole tough mom thing. I shrugged again.

"I told you, I had to pick up Beth from work," I explained, an explanation that was clearly not good enough as all three pairs of my sister's eyes continued to gaze sternly at me. "Bett works at a...drinking establishment that's open pretty late," I added, reaching for Beth's hand, which she quickly stuffed into the pocket of her jacket. She was pissed. It was plain as day on her face.

"Establishment? Have you been reading the dictionary again Patty?" Rickie smirked and then wrapped her arms around me. "Go say hi to mom, she's been freaking that you're not here," she added in a whisper in my ear.

"Yeah, just gonna grab a beer," I promised and gave my oldest sister and extra squeeze. Erica wants to marry Tazer. I've told her that's gonna happen...over my dead body. I do not want to be related to Captain Boring Mcyawnypants.

Beth followed me up the stairs of the deck but she looked at every single person there as if they were a potential assassin. I looked around at my old hockey buddies, the guys from the block and a few guys form school and wondered what she had to be worried about. It was a sea of t-shirts, shorts and jeans. Her plain black t-shirt, short denim skirt and high top runners fit right in, at least they did to me.

"Patty! There you are." I grinned as my mother emerged from the house with a big bowl of something covered in cling film and beamed at her only son as if I'd just come back from the dead. "Pat can you put this on the table?" she handed the bowl off to my dad without even looking to see if he'd grabbed it before she let go, and then practically ran across the deck and wrapped me up in a bear hug like I had just come back for the summer, not like I'd eaten a stack of her homemade waffles that morning.

"Hey Ma," I hugged her back, the scent of her distinctive mom perfume filling my head. I'd miss that smell during the season, so I sucked it into my lungs now like I was taking my dying breath. "I...brought someone for you to meet," I added as I untangled myself from her. When I turned around Beth was trying to beat a retreat towards the stairs but my reflexes and speed are not that bad off the ice either and I managed to grab her and pull her back. "Mom, this is Beth." I didn't need to say more. My mom should work for the FBI. You can't hide anything from her. Not like I try, but two consecutive nights away from home and I had to tell her. I don't know what she'd do if I didn't tell her, but I don't want to find out either.

"Oh Beth darling, it's so nice to finally meet you. Patty here has been telling us all about you." Beth shot me a look that could have withered a daisy but she let my mom hug her too. My family are huggers.

"Uh...yeah, I'd say the same but uh...?" She glared at me over my mother's shoulder and I realized she was wracking her brain for my mother's name, which I totally hadn't told her.

"Donna," I told her and she gave me one of those 'you'll pay for this later' purses of her lips. I kept grinning. I didn't mind being tied to the bed, even if she thought it _was_ some kind of punishment.

"Yeah, Donnna...Pat says you're a heck of a cook," she added, pulling maybe the only detail I'd probably shared about my mom out of her ass.

"Well you need some fattening up," my mother cooed, holding her hands at Beth's trim waist. I liked her hourglass figure, all tits and ass. Beth blinked at my mom, and then smiled.

"Well, I could definitely eat," she agreed and followed my mom over to the overflowing table beside the barbeque.

* * *

><p>"There's something I want to show you." The crowd had thinned out and the music turned down when Pat took my hand and lead me into the basement of his family home. I kept the palm of my hand against the wall as he lead me down a narrow staircase with no railing. Every so often my hand bumped against the sharp corner of a picture frame or ran over the soft felt of a pennant. "One more step," he warned and took both of my hands, steadying me as I took that one last step into the pitch dark. "Three steps to the left," he instructed as he let go of my hands, which I then put out in front of me like a zombie as I made my way, blindly, into the darkness.<p>

I'd taken the last step and stood, waiting for him to do something childish, or, alternatively, to run his hands over my skin and press his lips to the back of my neck where it would make me shudder but instead I was suddenly blinded by a brilliant, white flickering light that buzzed above my head. I blinked, my eyes adjusting slowly to the sudden brightness.

I wanted to ask if someone had died as I slowly spun and took in all of the medals, trophies, and plaques that littered the shelves around the room. The entire room looked like a shrine.

It wasn't until I got closer, until I peered at some of the photographs mixed in with the trophies that I recognized the curly golden locks and elfin smile of the winner of most of the awards.

Not all of the pictures were of a boy though. There were some that were newer, much more recent.

"This is you?" I asked, pointing at a picture that looked like it was from a magazine. It wasn't really necessary to ask, I knew his face, I'd studied it enough times, trying to feel something I didn't feel.

"Yeah," he grinned proudly, puffing out his chest as he looked over my shoulder at the silver medal with the Olympic logo etched into it beside the picture of a team that did not look happy to have won it. I stared at the picture for a moment longer and then turned and shoved him backwards, both hands pressed firmly to the middle of his chest.

"You fucking little asshole." He didn't so much as stumble and I hardly moved him an inch. It wasn't nearly satisfying enough but a second shove had no more impact than the first.

"I can explain," he began, wearing an 'I've got something over on you' grin that I wanted, right at that moment, to claw off of his face.

"Explain that you're that little shit that beat the fuck out of a cabbie, or that you're kind of a big deal and you've made me out to be a complete fucking idiot because I didn't know?" I gathered my arms into myself and turned away from him. I did feel ridiculous and I didn't take kindly to being made a fool of. My face was burning for what seemed like the thousandth time that night and not least because I had been starting to like him.

"I'm sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit remorseful, "but I kinda liked that you didn't know who I was, it was nice for a change," he added, leaning his chin into my shoulder and making kicked puppy noises. I rocked my shoulder so he had to reset and took a step forward so that he couldn't.

"You introduced me to your family and I didn't even know who you were," I added through my teeth. A summer barbeque just for friends and family...I shook my head and stared at the image of in a pair of ridiculous shades leaning drunkenly against the Stanley Cup with nearly naked woman with enormous breasts draped all over him. He was giving a "thumbs up" to the camera. I wanted to break his thumb off with my teeth.

"They loved you, if it helps," he whispered in my ear, still sounding proud of himself, as if he had nothing to actually feel sorry for.

"They were nice to me because they're polite and I don't know how you came from those nice people you...you _jerk_," I snapped and turned to shove him away. I was more successful that time, making him stumble, but he righted himself immediately, the way that a long time drunk will as they fall off a curb but manage, somehow and quite miraculously, not to fall flat on their face.

"Well, just so you know, I haven't brought a girl home in, well, a long time, so my mom is already planning the wedding" he blurted out. I stared at him, open mouthed, all the nasty names I'd just been thinking up and preparing to call him were very suddenly and completely erased from my mind. "C'mon Beth, don't look at me like that. I want you to move back to Chicago with me. Whaddya say?"


	5. Chapter 5

_I am totally frustrated with how the playoffs are going so I guess I took out some of my frustrations_

**Chapter 5**

I had never planned on staying in Buffalo. I'd kind of planned on backpacking in Europe or learning to surf in Australia. I should have stuck with those plans but he gave me an easy and free way out of the city. I agreed to try it, for a while, with a few conditions.

After I'd found out why his friends had all been sniggering behind their hands all summer, that Pat with the muscles and the all American frat boy grin was no co-ed, but was actually a big deal he thought I'd be impressed. Instead I was pissed. What I knew about hockey you could put in a thimble but that didn't make me feel any happier about being lied to all summer. So there were going to be some ground rules, like I was going to get a job and pay rent.

I had no idea why that made him laugh until we got to the windy city, into his big white Chevrolet SUV and into the traffic, until I had to look up, _waaay_ up, at the glass and steel buildings that seemed to kiss the sky. We drove along the river, past shops and restaurants and then into the underground parking of a skyscraper with a river view.

The place I'd offered to pay rent on was a huge, swanky bachelor pad with all the toys, including a fucking brass pole at the end of his king sized bed.

"Seriously?" I narrowed my gaze at him. He shrugged, a smirk on his face that, although I was now used to it, seemed to be begging to be slapped off his face.

"Oh c'mon, it's just for fun," he replied seriously. When I didn't smile he smirked. "It's supposed to be a good workout?" With a roll of my eyes I opened the closet doors and found a walk in that was bigger than my entire apartment back home.

An enormous closet is every girl's dream, except this one was filled with designer suits and a ball cap collection that I'd be willing to bet good money would rival that of any rapper's. The shelves were stacked with t-shirts, jeans and shorts. Not that my meagre suitcase of clothes required much room, but there was hardly any to spare but the first 'empty' drawer I found wasn't really empty.

I pulled out a leopard print thong by my fingernails and turned, accusingly, towards him.

"Must be Jessie's," he shrugged, as if that could be the only explanation. I tried to imagine his sister wearing the skimpy underthing. I couldn't. On the other hand, I thought as I stood there with the tiny piece of fabric hanging from the end of my index finger, I couldn't exactly rule out that possibility. He was close to his family, that much I'd been able to figure out as soon as I'd seen them together. There was no doubt his sisters would stay here when they came to visit and everyone has a wild side. "C'mon, drop your stuff, let's go for dinner," he suggested, one hand on the small of my back and the other reaching for the offending piece of fabric.

I let him take it from me and I let him lead me out of the room with the brass pole without starting another argument. There was a voice at the back of my head that I did my best to ignore that warned me that I was letting all female kind down by letting it go so easy but it wasn't like I could just leave. I was in a strange, big city and he was the only person I knew.

* * *

><p>"Patrick, so good to see you again."<p>

The blonde bombshell at the front of the restaurant practically fell over herself to greet me. I smiled and thanked her and tried to remember if I'd ever tapped that. I was pretty sure by the way she let her hand linger on my arm when she told us our server would be with us soon that I had. When she gave me a wink over the top of Beth's head I was pretty sure I had.

Had Beth noticed? I was pretty much certain she had because she picked up the menu right away and refused to look at me, or at the waitress who pretty much ignored Beth altogether. She sat on the corner of the table, turned her back on her and chewed on the end of her pen and grinned at me like she was picturing me standing at the end of the aisle. I never assume that girls are picturing me naked like they do when they look at Tazer. Most of the time I think they're just imagining my pay-check. Ninety percent of the time I don't care, except Beth had never looked at me like that. Even now that she'd finally seen my place, I knew she still wouldn't just automatically order the most expensive shit on the menu.

"Do you think that's sanitary, your panty hamster on the table?" I almost spit water right at her when she said it, but I managed not to, but only just. The waitress, in her tiny black skirt, narrowed her eyes at Beth who returned her gaze with equal hostility. With a roll of her eyes and a toss of obviously fake red curls the waitress slid off the table.

"I guess you want something to eat?" Beth raised an eyebrow and closed her menu with a loud snapping sound.

"Not here. I think I'd rather eat somewhere people have manners. In fact, I think I saw a McDonalds down the street," she added, pushing her chair back and folding the white linen napkin before dropping it onto the gold charger on the table. "Coming?" she asked, looking directly at me with a look in her eyes that made it crystal fucking clear that she was leaving, with or without me.

"I guess we're going," I said, maybe too apologetically to the waitress who was now smirking at Beth. She turned to me and the smirk disappeared, replaced by one of those looks that Sharpie calls 'the come hither'. Whatever the fuck that means.

"Oh, don't go," she purred, reaching out and laying her hand on my arm. They always do that when they want me. I don't know much about chicks but that much I've figured out.

For just a moment I hesitated, mesmerized by the way her white shirt gaped just a little across her chest so you could see just a hint of black lace bra underneath and milky white skin. I like women, all women. I don't really have a preference for dark or light meat or blondes or brunettes. I just like them all.

"Yeah, I guess we have to," I told her, dragging my attention away from her chest long enough to pull my wallet out and dig out a five. "Sorry about that," I told her, not that I meant it. She pouted in that whole bottom lip quivering sort of way and batted her eyelashes at me.

"Don't you even want my number?" she asked in this little girl Marilyn Monroe voice that girls think is sexy and I guess it can be, sometimes.

"No thanks," I said and meant it and turned to go after Beth who was already heading out onto the street.

"Jesus why didn't you just hump her right there on the table!" she hissed at me like a snake when I fell into step beside her.

"I didn't want to," I told her, almost honestly. There had been a minute there when I'd pictured it but it went away pretty quickly. I grabbed Beth's arm, maybe harder than I'd meant to, and spun her to face me. "All I can pretty much picture is fucking you right now." That I meant and when she looked me full in the face she knew I meant it too. "This was a mistake. Let's order in."

* * *

><p>It felt dishonest, sneaky even, as I looked down at his boyish features that were turned towards the wall and I listened to his slow, even breaths to be sure he was sleeping deeply enough. I watched for a few minutes until I had satisfied myself that he was deep in dreamland before I slipped from beneath the covers and headed out on my scouting mission.<p>

Finding the leopard print panties had been one thing but whole theatrics with the waitress had been humiliating but worse than that, it had convinced me that I didn't know nearly enough about Pat. Getting my Miss Marpole on, I headed for bathroom.

I wasn't surprised by the varied boxes of condoms I found there. After all, a young, red blooded male had a right to a healthy sex life...

So if I thought that why was I sleuthing in the middle of the night? What I wanted to find was evidence that he hadn't lied about the thong, that his sisters spent enough time here to leave behind what every girl needs when she stays for the weekend; tampons, deodorant, hair product. The first drawer I opened had a first aid kit with only some band-aids missing and that stuff you spray on burns. The second drawer had some rolled up tensor bandages, about a dozen bottles of Axe body spray and about a dozen bars of unopened ivory soap. There wasn't much under the sink, just the usual unopened rolls of toilet paper, some cleaning stuff and the plunger.

The medicine cabinet had all kinds of expensive colognes, most of which seemed to be full which explained the body sprays, and the usual aspirin, Tylenol, Claritin and a bottle of Tums, mostly full. There was no Midol, or Pamprin or any of those essentially female pain killers.

There were only two drawers left on the other side of the sink and the first was almost empty, like it was waiting to be filled with my make up bag, hair brushes and dozens of bottles of nail polish. But it wasn't entirely empty. Shoved towards the back were two pairs of panties; one red lace, the other a white cotton bikini style. I didn't have to do the sniff test to know they hadn't been cleaned and put there; they were crusty and stuck together and I tossed them in the waste basket beside the toilet and slammed the drawer shut.

Even telling myself that I wasn't being strictly fair by being angry at him, that it wasn't like I was some kind of virgin myself, but it pissed me off to know that he was that lackadaisical about these women that he'd just shove their things into the back of a drawer. It made me wonder when my things be dealt with in the same manner. It was disrespectful.

It was tacky.

Taking a deep breath I pulled open the second, and last, drawer. Again, it was nearly empty, but not completely so. There was a single hoop earring, the cheap and oversized kind girls where to clubs. I ran my hand to the back of the drawer but couldn't find its mate.

These things didn't belong to his sisters. If they had, the earring would have been returned, would even now be in some jewellery box with its matching twin. I tossed that earring in the trash with the panties and turned to the shower. I cranked the hot water on and stepped inside.

Who were these girls who had done the walk of shame from his apartment without their panties, with only one earring? How could he have sent them out into the world like that? How could he be so crass?

I let the hot water run over me, scalding my skin and tried my best to loofah away the feeling of him grunting and groaning over me. I'd made a mistake coming here. I'd made a mistake thinking he was someone I could trust. I'd let his sisters warmth and his mother's smile lull me into thinking he was someone other than that overly cocky college boy I'd known he was.

Now I just had to figure out how to get myself out of here.


	6. Chapter 6

_oh well, you win some and obviously you lose some, so now with ALL my teams out of the playoffs I guess I should have more time to write!_

**Chapter 6**

I was just another early morning commuter with my coffee in a cup holder, listening to the sports radio guys talk about the upcoming season. I was looking forward to seeing the guys but there was something about the first practice that was eating at me. Most of it had to do with my wrist but I'd have the answer to that soon enough. The rest of it had to do with starting the whole quest for The Cup again.

They say that once you've won it, it's in your blood and you'll do anything for another shot. I think that's probably true of Tazer and maybe some of the other guys but I don't really want to go through the hell it takes to get there. Not that I don't take it seriously but I don't get the point of having money and not being able to have fun with it. Tazer's always saying there's plenty of time for that later but I figure later I might not be in any shape to enjoy myself.

Which is where I get into trouble; while Tazer's at home watching films or picking his belly button lint or whatever Captian Super Snooze does when he's not at practice or playing a game I actually go out and have a beer with my friends and somehow that apparently makes _me_ the bad guy.

And that is exactly what I feel like when I get to the doctor's office and see the woman behind the desk roll her eyes. I'm late and the look on her face is like that's just typical of me, which actually it's not.

"I'm sorry I'm…." I begin but she doesn't let me finish.

"Go in, he'll be with you as soon as he can," she sighs and goes back to staring at the computer screen in front of her. I pause there by the desk, still thinking that I should apologize but she doesn't look up again so I don't. I find the open room and hop up on that examination table with its strip of thin, crunch noisy paper.

"Good Morning Pat, how was your summer?" the doc asks as he breezes into the room and goes directly to the small metal sink and washes his hands.

"Not bad, considering," I reply, holding up my cast. There was definitely some things I didn't get to do because of it but then he knows that. He was the one that gave me the list of don'ts.

"All for a good cause though hmm?" he smiles before turning and opening one of the cupboards and pulling out what looks like a tool my dad might use back at home. "Let's get that off and see how we did."

"Boy, am I looking forward to this." I've been sticking about everything I can down under the cast, my arm itches pretty bad.

"Looks like you haven't been slacking though," the doc adds approvingly as he unwinds the cord and for the tool and plugs it in. I smooth my t-shirt down over my abs and I do feel a little proud of my new six-pack. I hope Coach Q feels the same. "How has the arm been feeling, any pain?"

"No, not really," I reply honestly, "except for…." Normally talking about sex wouldn't make me blush but something about mentioning it in a doctor's office makes it feel weird. The doc has the saw poised above my arm and raises his eyebrow at me, inviting me to finish. "I got kinda carried away the other night in uh…bed and uh…had my hand kinda pressed to the wall and my wrist hurt a little," I admit, feeling my face start to get red. The doc nods and then ducks his head over the saw.

"You might feel a little weakness as you start using it, but you'll soon get your strength back," he smirked and then set the saw to its work.

* * *

><p>I had my bag packed and I was debating if I had enough cash to take a taxi to the airport or if I should try taking transit when he walked back in. He looked at my bag and then quizzically at me. We stared at one another for a long moment and then he just grabbed my bag and took it back to the bedroom.<p>

"You're being kind of dramatic dontcha think?" he said in a very controlled tone.

"I don't know how you even talked me into this in the first place," I countered, following him into the bedroom where he dropped my bag onto the bed. It was only then that I noticed his cast was gone.

"Because you wanted out of Buffalo," he replied in the same tone with just a hint of barely controlled fury that made his peach fuzz covered jaw clench. "Sorry," he apologized with a sigh, closing his eyes for a long moment as if he was reaching inward for control. "I didn't really mean that."

"Yeah, you're right," I admitted, "but if you're trying to imply that I'm some kind of gold digger…." He shook his head and shrugged a single shoulder.

"I actually _know_ that you're not," he smiled but it wasn't the smile that I was used to. It was almost sad; little boy sad. It was the kind of sad that made me want to give him a lollipop, kiss him better and promise everything would be alright. It also had the immediate effect of dousing my anger. "That stuff you found…just to be clear, I know what most of those girls are interested in and I know they leave that stuff here so they have a reason to come back," he added, further throwing cold water over my simmering emotions.

"And you're okay with that?" For some reason it surprised me that he understood that these women were using him but I wasn't certain if that was a point in his favor or against him.

"I dunno, I guess I haven't really cared too much about it," he shrugged and then looked up at me from behind lashes that any girl would kill for and I began to feel like I may have been a bitch about this despite the fact that there was still a voice somewhere in the back of my head warning me that I was being played.

"You could have cleaned up," I pointed out, to which he merely shrugged again.

"I don't really do that," he replied sheepishly, the corner of his mouth turning up as he began to get the feeling he was about to be let off the hook.

"Well then you could have asked your cleaning lady to clean up," I sighed, the anger that I'd been holding onto while I'd packed had been ebbing quickly ever since he had walked through the door and the cocky smirk he was now wearing should have made it come rushing back, but it didn't.

"She won't touch that stuff," he shrugged and now I could tell he was trying hard not to go for a victory lap around the bedroom. "And up til now," he added, his smirk growing by degrees as he closed the gap between us, "I've had this bum arm…until now." He flexed his arm, displaying his bulging bicep and ropey muscle, making my mouth go dry. I didn't love him, my heart wasn't involved at all but my pulse quickened just the same. "Wanna try it out?" he asked, reaching out to toy with the strap on my tank top, running his finger underneath the strap and then letting it fall over my shoulder.

"We could do that," I replied, reaching down to cross my arms and pull the shirt over my head. His cocky grin grew into a full blown smirk and as he grabbed me around the waist, picked me and tossed me down onto the bed right beside my bag which he then pushed off the end of the bed. We both listened to it hit the floor with a resounding thud and then he smiled down at me.

"You forgive me, right?" It wasn't really a question, nor was it an apology, but then I hadn't asked for one.

"Shut up," I mumbled and ran my hand up underneath his golf shirt, pushing the cotton fabric up with it.

"No problem," he laughed, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor behind him before falling on me like a man who'd just walked out of the desert and was diving into a kiddie pool. There was something about his enthusiasm that made me forget to be mad.

For the time being anyway.

* * *

><p>"Why not?" I listened to the silence on the other end of the line and knew that JT was trying his best to read between the lines. I could picture his face, his beady eyes all focused, making a bummy mouth.<p>

"_Because we always do it at Sharpie's_," he said again, like that was going to change my mind.

"Well I'm sure before you were Captain OCD they probably had it at someone else's house so…what's the big deal?" I asked. Now I could picture him staring daggers at his phone because I'd called him a name. Finally I heard him sigh and knew I'd won.

"_Fine, whatever. What do you want everyone to bring_?" I almost said hot girls, knowing all it would take was for him to walk out the front door of his apartment and there'd be half a dozen hotties just waiting to catch his attention, but then I turned and watched Beth walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel that barely covered her and thought better of it.

"Dude I've got this, no worries," I smiled, knowing that alone would have the old worry wart grinding his teeth for the rest of the day.

"_Pat if this is some kind of prank...?"_ he began to which I snorted and hit end on my phone. I followed Beth into the bedroom and watched her dig through her suitcase.

"You're going to have to unpack sometime," I told her, again. She didn't reply, just retrieved a pair of skimpy black lace boy shorts out of the suitcase and dropped her towel. I watched her shimmy into them. It was almost as good as watching her slip out of them. "So uh...you cook, right?" She turned, her high, firm tits staring me down and it took me a minute to force my gaze northwards.

"I can...why?" she asked slowly, eyeing me like I was about to ask her to put on a French maid's costume and ask her to serve appetizers...which wasn't such a bad thought.

"I've invited a few people over this afternoon, sort of a pre-season get together so I thought we could just grab some chips and stuff from the market." She rolled her eyes, which is what I'd been hoping for.

"These 'people'," she said, putting air quotations around the word, "are your teammates?" I nodded and she sighed again. "You can't feed them chips," she grumbled, turning back to pull a pair of black yoga pants from her suitcase and tossed a t-shirt onto the bed. "I wish you'd told me last night, this is fucking short notice so we'll have to go to a deli that can make some platters."

* * *

><p>Now that I'd b put turning around and catching the next train back to Buffalo on the back burner I'd been suddenly forced into the position of having to play the perfect hostess, the smiling arm candy in a tight emerald green dress he'd insisted on buying right off of a mannequin in the window of a boutique I'd never, in a hundred years, have thought of going in. I felt like I couldn't breathe and if I kept smiling my jaw was going to ache more in the morning than if I'd spent the day on my knees in an airport bathroom.<p>

His teammates started to arrive, lead by his tall, dark haired golly gee absolute opposite. Pat introduced the mile wide shoulders barely shoe horned into a crisp butter yellow dress shirt as Jon. From the minute he leaned forward and brushed his lips along my cheek I wanted to die, preferably beneath him, exhausted and sated.

Pat was the dime store version of Jon in every way. Pat was shorter, louder and Jon was quiet and spent most of the welcome back party acting like this was his place and making sure everyone's drinks stayed full, the canapés kept being circulated and every single wife or girlfriend knew that he thought each and every one of them was special, pretty, and that he was going to be their significant other's best friend forever.

"I can already see Pat's made a great choice," he said to me as he tipped a bottle of red into my almost empty glass. "You know he's never brought a girl back here before." I blinked at him and wondered how he could lie with a perfectly straight, yet adorable look on his face.

"He's had half the city in his bed. I've been here two days and I've found three separate earrings, two pairs of panties shoved into a drawer in the bathroom and this morning I found a file on his computer entitled 'tapped that'." He tried, really made a solid attempt to look shocked but it clearly wasn't in the captain of the Hawks to cover the disgust he felt on my behalf. When he failed, utterly, to keep his expression blank, he turned and glared at Pat, who, from across the room, just raised his glass and grinned. "On the other hand...he begged me to stay when I packed my shit." His tanned jaw unclenched and he nodded once.

"Well, there's that," he responded quietly.

"Yes, there's that," I agreed watching Pat toss another one of those basil toasts with the goat cheese and pine nuts into his mouth. I wasn't sure why I was telling Pat's friend everything, other than he seemed to care and I felt better getting it off of my chest.

"I knew something was up," Jon said suddenly, his gaze still trained on Pat who was talking and laughing with some of the other guys. "When he asked us here, I knew there was something..._someone_ he wanted to show off."

"Like a new toy," I said, only realizing that I was saying it out loud after the words tumbled from my mouth. Jon turned his dark espresso gaze towards me and bathed me in the light of his crooked, boyish smile.

"Us guys can be like that," he said and it sounded sincere, but I couldn't help thinking as he turned his gaze back towards his teammates that he would never do that, treat a woman like a prize won at the county fair. He put his hand on my arm and I looked down at his tanned skin overt top of my moonlight pale skin and wondered at how warm his skin was. "I'm sure he means it in the best possible way."

He gave my arm the lightest of squeezes, as if he knew exactly how to touch a woman, knew his own strength and I looked at his hand and then up at him and the thin line of his lips and wondered if his kiss would be as warm and as tender. His molten gaze held mine for a minute, a long, heated minute until I thought the only way the moment could possibly end was with him kissing me like his life depended on it, and then he was gone.

I watched him go, watched him wade into the crowd of guys and lay his hand on Pat's shoulder as if he was just greeting his friend but I saw Pat blink, saw his cocky grin fade at the edges. I wondered how many other people in this room knew those signs the way I'd begun to recognize them.

As much as I'd liked the warm, light touch of Jon's hand on my arm, I liked the way his fingers dug into Pat's shoulder more. I shouldn't have. It wasn't something a perfect hostess should enjoy but I did. I stood there and knew that he deserved it.

I stood there, mesmerized by the intensity in Jon's dark eyes and imagined that intensity directed at me. Just the thought of those dark chocolate orbs staring down at me while his massive body pinned me down made my pulse treble. There was something about a guy barely in control that made my breathless. It was the reason I always picked bad boys, guys that were trouble, guys that hurt me. It was also the reason that Pat's cocky grin had landed me in his bed and I didn't even really like _him_.

And now I'd felt the kind of spark, the kind of immediate animal attraction that makes your entire body tingle with electricity and I'm almost sure he'd felt it too but there wasn't a chance in hell he'd do anything about it thanks to the god damn Bro- Code that made any woman they're friends are involved with strictly off limit and the worst part was, I had no one to blame but myself.

* * *

><p>I'd known he was up to something, but I hadn't expected a living, breathing woman to be at Pat's apartment. When I'd seen her, when I'd walked in the room and I'd seen her for the first time I thought she had to be some kind of model that he'd hired. She wasn't the skinny blonde with the fake tan and even faker tits that he usually went for. She looked like she'd walked out of a tooth paste commercial. Not so pretty that she was unapproachable, but not the kind of girl you'd walk by without doing a double take either.<p>

When he told me that she'd moved in I wasn't the only one who thought he was fucking with us. Of all the guys on the team, Pat's the last guy I could see settling down but then I got pulled into her orbit, smelled the sharp tang of green apple in her hair and lavender on her skin.

Then I touched her and once I'd touched her I wanted to go on touching her.

"What are you really doing?" I asked and every face in the group turned to stare at me. I'd cut Sharpie off. I knew it. He'd been talking about something he'd done in the summer, diving or something. I hadn't been listening. I'd been thinking about her and the way that green dress look like it had been wrapped around her body like so many elastic bands. "With her...what do you think you're doing?" I asked, digging my fingers into his shoulder hard enough that I heard him suck his next breath in through clenched teeth.

"Fuck off," Pat hissed at and brushed my hand away. "Since when did you care who I dated?"

"You don't _date_ Kaner," I pointed out, glancing over to where she was still standing, her still full wine glass in her hand watching us like she was waiting for something to detonate, like a cat trying to decide whether to attack or flee. "You do one night stands, maybe a week. Since when did you date?"

He got that look on his face that he always gets when he thinks he's done something he should get credit for, like he's just waiting to be patted on the back. I thought long and hard about pouring the beer in my hand over his head. It wouldn't have been the first time. We kind of have a love, hate relationship. Sometimes he's the best guy or at least he makes me laugh, lightens the mood when I get a little intense. Sometimes, like now, I want to punch him in the head.

"Well fuck, _look_ at her," he suggested as he raised a glass to her. She looked flustered and turned away. He watched her go, tilting his head to get a better view of her ass in that tight fitting dress. "She's a fucking animal in the sack," he added with a self satisfied grin on his face that I was barely able to stop myself from slapping off his face.

"You got a point there Kaner," Sharpie said admiringly as he too watched her walk towards the kitchen. Until he'd been dragged to the alter recently Sharpie had been as big a man whore as Pat was always proud to say he was and just because he had a ball and chain didn't mean Sharpie didn't appreciate perusing the menu now and again.

"You see?" I sighed and shook my head. "If she's your main squeeze you _don't_ talk about her like that." All the guys turned back to look at me, all wearing the same expression, as if I didn't know what he fuck I was talking about, or, I guess, that I didn't have the right to talk. Of course Pat took it a step further and made a big fucking show of looking around me, behind me and scratching his head.

"I don't see anyone, do you Stalby?" I aimed my most unhappy look at the big Swede who kind of chuckled and shrugged.

"No, I don't see anyone either," he agreed and then aimed a meaningful look towards the leggy brunette across the room who was deep in conversation with Sharpie's wife Abby.

"Well fuck you too Stalberg," I snapped and felt the aluminum beer can in my hand crumple. I needed air. I needed not to be here. "See you guys at practice. Eight, sharp and don't be late Kane," I added, staring down at the destroyed can in my hand.

"Whatever you say...dad," Kaner snorted. I thought he was lucky I didn't crush his head like I had the can because I wanted to. I put the can carefully on the nearest side table and ignored him, ignored the fact that they were watching me leave and probably making fun of me behind my back. Fans did that at games, it was something I was used to ignoring. That didn't mean that it didn't bug the hell out of me, only that I didn't rise to it.

"Going so soon?" Her voice was like running my hand along the softest velvet, like having a cat curl up on your lap and purr.

"Yeah," I responded more curtly than was strictly fair. I looked up into her startled gaze and felt sorry but I couldn't take it back. She was Kaner's girlfriend. She was sleeping in his bed. This was her party. "Sorry," I added more softly and then forced myself to look away, walk through the door and pull it closed behind me.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I leaned against the cool tile on the wall of my shower watching the evidence of my spent desire slowly being washed down the drain. I'd tried, unsuccessfully, most of the night to dismiss any and all thoughts of Kaner's new girlfriend from my mind and all that had resulted in was a long and vigorous wanking session when I got up.

I'd gone too long without, that was the problem. I'd been depriving myself ever since the results of my experimentation with going public with a girlfriend had confirmed all of my worst fears. It hadn't really been fair to Gabrielle, to use her like that. She'd actually been kind of fun in a girls gone wild kind of way, which, looking back on it, should have tipped me off that my internet stalkers would find no end to the revealing and risqué pictures of her.

It _had_ just been an experiment though. I'd guessed what it would be like, based on what some of the other guys in the league, like Scottie Upshall, Phaneuf and even Kaner had been through and I really didn't want to put someone I actually _cared_ about through _that_.

Not that I planned on getting involved with anyone. That was a recipe for disaster as far as I was concerned. Chicks are a distraction. For me I found it was better to just have sex and not have to deal with the upkeep. All that romantic shit is for the birds. I've seen what it does to guys, especially when they're on the road and the WAG is checking up on them, asking them what they're doing and with whom. I don't need the headache, no matter how hot she might be. I have a team to lead.

Pat doesn't need the distraction either, I think to myself as I turn off the water and reach out to grab a towel. There's part of me that thinks it's good if he's trying to settle down, that it's better he do that then go out to the bar every night but on the other hand, there's part of me that believes that there's some other reason he's doing this; like trying to convince Coach Q that he's reformed.

Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part.

Gabrielle was pretty but in the sort of obvious way that doesn't really appeal to me. In the whole Ginger or Mary Ann debate I fall firmly on the side of pig tails and cut offs. I can't deal with high maintenance. I don't have the time or the inclination to deal with someone else's wants and needs. What _I_ want is no complications. I want someone I can hang out with and have sex with but who doesn't need to know where I am or what I'm doing all the time and who doesn't expect a fucking present every time I walk through the door. I used to think it wasn't a lot to ask. Now I know better.

As I wrap the towel around my waist I see there's a text on my phone. It's from Gabrielle.

_Saw ur back in town. Get 2gether?_

It would be easy to do and as my fingers hover over the virtual keyboard I almost reply in the affirmative before I think it through and then I decide against it and dismiss the message. I really don't have time for this shit.

* * *

><p>"Nice party. Didn't think you had it in you to put together anything without strippers and shooters," Sharpie smacked me on the back. I grin, glad for the props, especially from him. Usually he's the first guy to shake his head at me, be disappointed in me.<p>

"Your chick's pretty hot too," Bolland smirked as he sat beside me on the bench. 'My chick', it still made me pause.

"And not a bad cook as it turns out," I add. I watch the guys getting out of their street clothes and into their pads and I realize I'm actually jealous. They haven't cleared me to play so I'll be spending practice on a stationary bike instead.

"So did you really find her in a bar? Abby said something about her being a waitress," Patrick prompted. I shrugged. I didn't have a reason not to agree.

"You have no idea what a fight she put up. She was not impressed with me at all," I admitted. The look on Sharpie's face was pretty fucking priceless. Those big blue eyes that got him on the list of the supposedly hottest guys in the city got big and he looked surprised and impressed all at the same time.

"You mean you actually met a chick that didn't fall for your shit? I wish you'd told me that last night, I would have given her a high five," he chuckled. I rolled my eyes at him. I'd already heard enough of that from my sisters.

"Then what's she doing with you?" I looked up to find our Captain of all things boring standing across the room, hanging his jacket on a hook, and even though he had his back to me I could hear the sneer in his voice.

"Because I'm hung like a horse," I replied and then immediately wished I hadn't. All of these guys had seen me in the shower a thousand times. Bolland snorted and Sharpie shook his head but Tazer didn't react at all. Of course once you'd seen his oversized trouser python you didn't stare at it too long. It was intimidating as shit and he knew it.

"No really," he repeated calmly, turning to sit on the bench and leaning over to untie his shoes. "How'd you talk a perfectly nice girl like that into coming to Chicago with you?" He didn't say it out loud but anyone could hear the accusation in his voice, like maybe I'd actually drugged her, tied her up and kidnapped her.

"Who says she's nice?" I countered and then got to my feet to leave the room. Sometimes I had to fight the urge to punch Jon right in the face. This was one of those times.

"She'd have to be. She's probably a fucking saint to put up with you," he replied without so much as lifting his head. I felt my hands curling into fists at my sides. He was always talking down to me, like I was his younger, badly behaved sibling.

"Yeah well, for your information she can suck a fucking golf ball through a mile of garden hose, so...there," I snapped and as I turned on my heel and walked out of the room I knew it didn't make any sense, or at least it wasn't a bad thing as far as the guys would be concerned but it was the only thing that came to mind. I could feel Tazer's smirk like an itch in the middle of my back but I didn't give in to the urge to turn around and wipe that smug look off his face with my fist. That would have been a ticket to at least a week in the press box and besides, then he'd win and I was finally beginning to feel like I had something that Captain Beige didn't have.

I was still going to give that bike hell though.

* * *

><p>I got a wave from...I think it was Abby Sharpe as I stepped out of the taxi outside of the arena. I looked down at my clunky black boots and then at her clearly costly and very feminine heels and reminded myself to throttle Pat when I got my hands on him. The note he'd left for me directing me to the arena for a casual get together after the Hawks first practice had obviously failed to mention that there was some kind of dress code which obviously didn't include jeans or a leather jacket. I glanced down again at the frayed denim I was wearing and wondered if there was a judge in this county that would convict me of killing Pat slowly and painfully with a butter knife.<p>

"I guess I didn't get all the information," I apologized to Abby who was holding the door for me. She didn't look down at my jeans or at faded t-shirt I was wearing. She smiled right into my eyes and shrugged.

"No one will notice," she promised. Her words tasted like a lie but the conviction in her eyes made it clear that she wouldn't be saying anything. As I looked into the room at the other women loitering in groups of twos and threes there, I was sure that even if she didn't that one of these women definitely would.

They all looked like mannequins that had just walked out of the display window of the nearest Gucci and Chanel stores. They reeked of money from their Coach totes to their Jimmy Choo and Louboutin heels and their Burberry scarves with their Prada skirts and Helmut Lang skinny jeans. I was outclassed by a few thousand dollars.

"That was a wonderful party you threw," a slim blonde in a smart white sleeveless dress with a boat neck put her hand on my arm. I recognized her, or at least her pony tail and bright smile and fought to remember her name.

"Thanks...Kelly?" She smiled and offered me a glass of chilled white wine.

"Kelly-Rae and don't look so nervous, we don't bite," she promised. I nodded but was far from believing her. With all of their perfect and clearly chemically enhanced white teeth, most of them looked like dead eyed great whites circling bloody meat in the water. The bloody meat being me.

"I'm not sure what this...uh, _meeting_ is about," I admitted. Abby rolled her eyes and shook her head and I felt my jaw clench and then she sighed and said:

"Pat...of course he didn't tell you, but then I'm sure all this is as new to him as it is to you." I released the breath I was holding and nodded.

"Clearly," I agreed.

"Well let me explain," Kelly-Rae said brightly, linking her arm with mine, "we do some charity work and we're here to put our heads together and decide what we're going to do this year to raise money."

"We have a Christmas toy drive, an Easter basket auction...," a blue eyed blonde that looked like she could easily grace the cover of Victoria Secret added enthusiastically as she held a sign-up sheet out towards them. "We're having a casino night. I hear you've done a little bar tending, maybe we would get you to show a couple of us some tricks like...can you flip the bottles around?"

"She was a server Julia, not a bartender," Abby pointed out, shooting an apologetic look my direction.

"Actually, I did work behind the bar occasionally and yeah I _can_ actually spin the bottle behind my back," I replied, which earned me a big grateful smile from the petite blonde.

"You see," she exclaimed brightly, "that's so great. Maybe we can have a Better Halves' bar where the drinks are like twice as much but you get served by us so it's _totally_ worth it," she added with a smile that I was willing to bet made guys walk into telephone poles. She was the kind of girl I'd have sneered at and said really mean things about behind her back but up close she seemed more like a puppy eagerly wagging its tail and begging to be picked up and petted; harmless and kinda cute.

"I'd uh...I'd be glad to help," I found myself offering and was immediately bathed in the glow of half a dozen full wattage smiles.

* * *

><p>She looked like the lost lamb cut off from the herd of sheep, trying to look smaller, trying not be noticed as the rest of the WAGs stampeded into the dressing room to claim their men. It irked me that Pat didn't notice her, didn't even seem to be looking for her as she hung back near the door.<p>

I had a line from some movie some girl had made me watch running through my head, something about not putting Baby in a corner as I watched her eyes dart anxiously around the room. There was a part of me, the Superman that I hoped that I was out on the ice that wanted to sweep in and save her. The other part, the darker part that I don't show to anyone, wanted to drag her out of the room, press her against the nearest flat surface and taste her skin.

There was something about the little girl lost look on the face of such a tough looking girl that set my insides on a slow simmer. I wasn't sure what Pat thought he was doing with a girl like that. As I grabbed my tie and started to shove it into my bag I thought about the girls that Pat usually went for, the easy ones, the ones that didn't require work, or even attention. They were like weeds growing out of a sidewalk, a little rough, not really pretty, but everywhere. This one looked more like a hot house flower, out of her element, far from the field she should have been in.

There was also something else that came to mind as I watched her try and draw an invisible shield around herself. Ever since Pat had been so descriptive about her ability with a hose and a golf ball I'd been unable to shake the image of her on her knees, blindfolded with her hands tied behind her back.

Looking up and over at her, I watched her stare down at my tie where it was draped across the palm of my hand. Her eyes are a little too wide and her mouth, which looked full and soft and was unmarred by any bright smear of lipstick, something that seemed unnecessary on her, fell open as if she knew what I was thinking. I smiled to myself. I sincerely doubted it.

Women take one look at me and see vanilla. They see roses and candlelight and big, shiny diamond rings. They don't see the dark passenger that is coiled inside of me, that looks out of my eyes and whispers things that polite young men shouldn't want to do. Like at this moment what I wanted to do was wrap the copper hair she had pulled back into a simple pony tail around my hand and pull on it just enough to make her gasp.

I forced myself to look away from her. She wasn't available. She was Pat's and it was bad enough that I been thinking of her that way; if she even got an inkling of the things I was thinking, that were in my head...

"They won't let me even fucking practice." I glanced down at where Pat had just thrown himself down on the bench like a child about to have a temper tantrum.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked as I very intentionally slowly wrapped my tie around my hand while I glanced down at the arm Pat hand cradled in his hand. One arm was clearly paler than the other and to my eye, more fragile looking.

"I don't know," Pat grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. I rolled his eyes and reminded myself to be patient. It was, after all, only the first practice. The time for yelling at him was after Christmas even thoug hit was just like my self-indulgent teammate not to have listened to the advice of the doctor's or training staff. "Something about getting my strength back," he added with petulant sniff.

"Jerk off more, that helps me," Seabs snorted, miming the act with his left hand and massively exaggerating the length of his member. I snorted. Pat flipped him the bird.

"I don't have to do that anymore, loser," Pat added, getting to his feet as if he'd only just noticed her standing across the room. I wanted to break Kane's finger as he crooked it at her. I wanted to applaud her when she didn't move.

"I wouldn't bet on that," Sharpie clucked as he lifted his bag and heaved it over his shoulder. "I hear your little lady is less than pleased with you today." I glanced at the blue eyed winger and then down at my golden haired teammate and did my best not to smirk.

"What'd I do now?" Pat complained loudly.

"Jesus open your eyes kiddo," Sharpe said quietly, quiet enough that the only the three of us could hear.

"Which one of these things doesn't belong?" I suggested, knowing that was far too complicated a task for our slightly younger teammate even as I watched Kaner frown and as he struggled to see what we were seeing. "Take her shopping, for fuck's sake, get her some nice things," I finally sighed, shaking my head and stuffing my tie deep into my bag. I didn't wait for any of the other questions that were bound to follow. I took my bag and headed toward the door, to where she was still standing, waiting to be rescued. I hadn't planned on saying anything, but she looked so uncomfortable that I made himself stop "I'm sorry about him," I said quietly. She glanced anxiously at him and then away.

"For what?" she asked curtly and, I thought, a little defensively.

"He didn't tell you about today, about what to expect. It was...unfair," I added, inhaling the scent of the leather of her jacket mixed with the sharp tang of apple from her hair. I wanted to dig my fingers into it and bury my nose in it. I stared straight ahead and tried not to think about what those copper tresses would look like spread out on my pillow.

"It's fine," she replied dismissively. It was not fine but I shrugged, deciding that I would let it go if she was going to.

"If you...need...I mean, if you want to know about anything...," I began again, the words tripping off of my tongue before I'd even realized they were there. I bit the remaining words back before they got me into trouble.

"I'm fine," she reiterated, lifting her chin higher. I glanced sideways at her, at her eyes that flashed with anger and the unhappy press of her lips into a thin line. I doubted very much if that was true but I nodded and didn't argue. She looked down suddenly and it was only then that I realized that I had laid my free hand on her forearm where it was crossed just under her breast. Slowly she lifted her gaze to meet mine and that look was there again; shock or was it something more like...fear? I knew that I wasn't supposed to like it but I felt her panic like champagne bubbles on my tongue. Her fear tasted like desire.

"Anything," I reiterated quietly but firmly as I looked into her startled gaze and only then did I let go of her arm and walked away with a grin plastered on my face.


	8. Chapter 8

_To make up for the long wait for the last one I was determined to get this done today & I JUST managed!_

**Chapter 8**

"Here." I looked at the proffered card and then up into his blue eyes.

"What's that?" I asked, reaching for my glass of orange juice instead. Pat put the piece of plastic down on the table and pushed it towards me.

"It's a credit card. There's like...five g's on it. Get yourself whatever you need. But it's not for stuff like groceries, _okay_?" I looked down at the American Express card and then up at him and waited. It felt like there had to be a catch but as I waited for him to add the addendum, he attacked his wholewheat toast with a butter knife, smearing jam and peanut butter all over it and said nothing more. Turning my attention back to the credit card, I pulled it the rest of the way towards myself and noted that my name was on it.

"Does Penny know about this?" I asked, thinking about the credit card commercial I'd seen him in while I'd been up late eating Bugles and watching re-runs of Saturday Night Live. I'd known if I'd gone to bed I'd only lie awake trying my best not to think. Pat smirked and reached for another piece of toast. "Thanks," I said quietly, taking the card and slipping it into the front pocket of my jeans. I felt guilty taking it, despite the fact that it had become more than evident that the other WAGs had no problems spending their significant other's wages.

"Whatever, if it gets me out of the doghouse with the...," he bit his bottom lip, effectively muting himself and grinned. "Anyways, I love the motorcycle boots but uh...maybe you should get some of those heels all the girls have." I raised a single eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "Okay, I like them too, but...y'know there's no need to go around being taller than me." It was times like this when it was hard not to find the boy sitting across the table from me as adorable as I knew he was trying to be.

"Maybe I'll ask that girl Julia...I think she's Bolland's girlfriend...?"

"Fiancée," he corrected me, making a face like being engaged was something perverse, or worse, a communicable disease that caused irreversible facial scarring.

"Yeah well, I must have missed the bling," I shrugged to make him feel better. It seemed to have the desired effect. He perked up immediately. "You've got another one of those practices today right?" He nodded, chewing on a piece of toast and reaching for another. "Unless you want to come with me?" I asked, because I thought I should. He stared at me over the piece of toast he was smothering with butter.

"You mean do the whole Pretty Woman shit? Sitting around stupid girl shops and helping you pick out shit and waiting for you to try it on? Um, no thanks," he replied, wrinkling his nose, shuddering dramatically and then shoving at least half of the piece of toast into this mouth.

"Okay if you put it that way, you're totally not invited," I laughed, picking up my mug of coffee and savoring its rich, dark aroma. I watched him through the steam, the way the morning light slanting through the windows of his high rise townhouse caught the hint of golden whiskers on his otherwise baby soft cheeks. He was a man and a boy in one package, but more a boy than a man still and I told myself that was why my skin didn't feel like electric current was running over it when he touched me and why my heart didn't skip a beat when he looked up at me like he was doing now.

"What?" he asked and I shook my head.

"Just wondering if I was going to have perform the Heimlich," I lied. He popped the rest of the piece of toast in his mouth and then brushed the crumbs down the sides of jeans. I rolled my eyes.

"Call me if you need more. I can always call Peggy and give her a few more tips," he said, standing and miming holding a hockey stick with both hands. "Y'know, a little shimmy this way, a little shimmy that way..." His antics made me grin, which I supposed was meant to be the point.

"I'm sure it will be more than enough unless you've also hired those guys from What Not to Wear," I replied as I reached for his plate and stacked it on mine. "Wait...you haven't, have you?" I asked, peering over my shoulder with mock horror.

"No way," he laughed, suddenly wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. "I like you fine the way you are," he added in a gruff tone as his blue eyes grazed my skin where it disappeared into the artfully ripped t-shirt. He made a sound deep in his throat and grazed my neck with his teeth before planting wet and sloppy kisses down to my collarbone. I giggled and fought to maintain my balance and not drop the plates.

"You'd like it if I was naked all the time," I squirmed. He looked up at me with a playful grin and waggled his eyebrows at me.

"Yeah, give me that card back," he growled and then made crazy eyes and opened his mouth wide as if fangs should suddenly descend from his gums. I shrieked in feigned horror and pretended to faint as he growled again before biting into my neck.

* * *

><p>"You gonna break a sweat on that thing or what?" I flipped Seabs the bird, put my head down, got my ass off the seat and pedelled harder. The last thing I needed was for it getting back to Coach Q that I wasn't giving my off-ice work out a hundred and ten.<p>

"How's the arm?" I looked over and find Tazer climbing on the stationary bike beside me.

"Fine," I replied, doubling my pace. He smiled in that way he does when he thinks he's so awesome. It makes me clench my teeth.

"Good," he said, that smile growing as he started to peddle. I cursed under my breath. I knew what he was going to do, or what he was going to _try_ and do. I leaned forward and focused on a spot on the wall and willed my legs to move faster. I could hear the gears spinning as he pumped the pedals. I could even hear his bike creak as he leaned into the handlebars. The fuckin' guy is always trying to prove he's better than me.

"You can't fucking do it," I breathed. He looked over at me and a slow, menacing grin spread across his face.

"Oh I think I can."

"My money's on Tazer!" I glared at Seabs. He's always sucking up to Captain Self Importance.

"Nah, Kaner hasn't just done ten minutes of wind sprints," Rat held up a twenty. Seabs grabbed it.

"Tazer's been doing wind sprints three times a day all summer. He's totally got this." With a growl I leaned forward and peddled like I'm being chased by a hungry fucking Grizzly.

"You're going down," I heard Jon say smugly.

"You mean _you_ are," I snarled back. He laughed. I fantasized ten different ways to kill him with my bare hands, if I could just figure out a way to avoid that he's got at least a three inch reach on me.

For about ten minutes the only sound in the room wasthe gears and the chains on the bikes. After that I could hear my own heart beating in my ears. After twenty minutes I was breathing heavily. He, however, was not.

I fucking _hate_ this guy.

"Your girlfriend's kinda cute," he said, right out of the blue. I glanced over at him. I knew he was just doing it to distract me. I ignored him, turning my attention back to the hole in the wall that he kicked the last time he got injured. "She's too good for you," he added. Oh joy, that old gambit.

"You say that about every girl I go out with," I snarled.

"You don't go out with girls," Seabs pointed out. I growled at him too.

"Any living breathing female would be too good for me as far as you're concerned," I hissed. Tazer grinned, bearing his teeth at me like a Pit Bull.

"You might have a point," he smirked. Rolling my eyes I looked away and beared down."When you text'd me about her I thought maybe she was the blow up variety," he added for good measure. I ground my teeth together. I would flipped him the bird but I was kind of afraid if I took my hands off the handle bars I'd fall down dead. "So are you paying her to stay with you or is she really your house keeper?"

"Jeezus, jealous much?" I coughed. Sweat was now pouring down my face but when I looked over, he was just starting to get red in the face.

"Jealous of what?" he snorted. "If I wanted her all I'd have to do is...no wait, you crooked your finger at he and if memory serves that didn't really go down so well."

"Burrrrrn!" I reached for my water bottle and threw it at Bolland, who caught it one handed out of mid air. Guy should be a goalie; he's got the reflexes of a fucking cat.

"So seriously, how long do you think before she catches you cheating on her?" Jon asked and that was it. I stopped pumping the pedals and got off the bike, grabbed my towel and headed for the showers. "Aww c'mon Kaner, don't be such a fucking baby!" I flipped him the bird over my shoulder and kept walking.

* * *

><p>"Jesus, I'm pretty sure I've never spent that much money in one day. You should be a personal shopper or something," I tetoldll Julia. She raised her glass towards me.<p>

"Shopping is not just a hobby, it's a sport," she replied emphatically. I looked down at the bags that are like colourful delicate Japanese lanterns around our feet and grin. I usually hate shopping but Julia made it fun. "Pat's gonna love that uh...what did you call that thing?"

"Merry widow," I remind her, "and I honestly don't think he'll notice if I wear something like that or not."

"Oh yeah, that's why you've got that giant hickey on your neck." My hand flew up to my neck and I felt my face get hot. Not that I didn't know it was there. Every time I'd been in a dressing room the huge, livid red bite mark had been staring back at me, as obvious as a freshman at her first frat party.

"He was pretending to be Edward," I smirked. She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, let me guess team Jacob?"

"Well let's just say I like a well defined six pack, not a drawn on one," she replied with playful raise of her eyebrow, "and you know who has the nicest washboard on the team, right?" I frowned. Was she talking about Pat? "Captain Delicious," she purred and then sipped innocently on the curly straw in her mai tai.

"Jon?" I had the sudden urge to fan myself. I'd spent a little late night time on Tumblr. The captain of the Hawks could be a Calvin Klein underwear model. "He's kind of...intense, don't you think?" She looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded.

"He's all business," she sighed, putting her drink down and reaching for her fork, stabbing it into the chop salad in front of her. "It's like...once hockey season starts there is nothing else in his life. Borrrrrring," she added with a dramatic eye roll.

"You mean...during the summer he's fun?" I asked, thinking about how he could look so serious in one photo and in the next an impish, adorably crooked smile would transform his entire face.

"Fuck yeah," she smiled and then sat back and looked thoughtful. "You should have seen him in the Bahamas this summer, drunk and doing the limbo...I don't think I've seen Dave laugh that much in...well a long time," she added. I tried to picture it. I couldn't. Or maybe it was that I couldn't get past the thought of him on a white beach in nothing but swim shorts.

"Pat wasn't there?" I asked. I knew the answer because I'd spent nearly the entire summer with him but I wondered why, when all the guys seemed so close, he hadn't been invited.

"The wrist surgery," she shrugged, looking apologetic. "I think he was a little bummed about not being able to swim and scuba and stuff."

"So, what do you guys do during the season for fun?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Well _this_, for a start," she replied lifting her glass again. I laughed. "Shop, go to the spa. I mean we do those fund raising projects but...I guess until we have kids, we do this," she continued with a grin. I knew she and for that matter, the rest of the WAGs didn't have jobs. When I'd mentioned looking for a job she'd immediately made a face and asked why.

"With the guys though...I mean...does everyone hang out like they did at Pat's the other night?" I asked, wondering if I'd be spending the fall making hors d'oeuvres for house parties every weekend.

"During the season?" she looked at me as if I'd just said something truly blasphemous, out loud and on purpose and then her expression softened into that 'of course, she's slow' look. "No...during the season the only time you're going to see him is when he comes home for a nap after practice and when he comes home all dejected puppy dog after a loss. The rest of the time, we're on our own." I blinked at her like she was speaking another language, one we didn't share. Pat had faults, plenty of them, but he'd been more attentive than...well than any many I'd ever met in my whole life. I couldn't really imagine him disappearing, even though, admittedly, sometimes I wanted him to. "That's right," she added as if she could read the thoughts flying around in my overloaded brain, "welcome to glorious and fucking lonely life of a WAG sister. It ain't all it's cracked up to be."

* * *

><p>I checked the time on my phone. I was late and I knew Gabrielle was going to be pissed if she hadn't already assumed she'd been stood up and left already.<p>

The patio at the restaurant was full of midday shoppers enjoying the late summer sun, sipping on colourful drinks wearing their Ray bans, shorts and light summer dresses. I could pick out Gabrielle's frosted weave from half a block away. Her long fingernails were drumming the tabletop while she swung one perfectly tanned leg impatiently. I rolled my eyes. I really didn't have time for this shit. I didn't like her enough to have to put up with being berated for making her wait.

I was about to turn around and head back the way I'd come when the glint of copper caught the afternoon sun and shone like a pond in an oasis on the other side of a desert. I stopped and stared.

I'd teased Bolland that he had no right to a girlfriend as pretty as Julia but I meant it when I said it to Kaner. Seeing her sitting in the sun in a black tank top with her hair like a flame licking her bare shoulders I hated him for being able to touch her, to hold her in his arms and taste her lips.

As if she sensed me she looked up and I wished I could see the expression in her eyes behind the aviator sun glasses she was wearing. Did she want me to join them? Did she want me to leave? I should leave, I knew that, but my feet were moving forward already.

"Julia," I greeted Dave's fiancée with a soft kiss to her temple and then moved to her side of the small table. "Beth." Her name tasted like vanilla frosting on my tongue, almost too sweet to enjoy. The palm of my hand came to rest on her bare shoulder. It was warm and soft. My hand lingered there too long, long enough that she looked up at me and I didn't need to see behind those mirrored lenses to know that she was wondering what I was going to do next. I was afraid to brush a soft kiss on her cheek the way I'd done to Julia, afraid if I did I'd go for her mouth and kiss her the way I'd imagined kissing her, hard enough to force her pink lips to part so I could taste her breath, sweep my tongue over hers'.

Instead of kissing her I slid my hand up to her cheek intending to just brush my knuckles along her high, sharp cheekbone but my body refused to listen to the signals my brain was trying to send it. My thumb caressed the line of her jaw as if it was made of the softest velvet as my gaze lingered too long on her mouth, as I thought of other things I wanted to do to and with that mouth.

"Jon," she breathed my name like I was touching her elsewhere, somewhere lower, more...private. For a moment I held my breath as she looked up at me, her lips remained parted like an invitation that I wanted to r.s.v.p. for immediately.

"Jonny!" I shut my eyes. I knew that voice and it was the last thing I wanted to hear in that moment. I wanted to hear Beth whisper my name again. No, that's not right. I wanted her to moan my name and then I wanted her to cry it out loud, loud enough for the whole street to hear.

"I'm sorry," I apologized and then turned to intercept Gabrielle before she could throw her arms around me. With reflexes honed by a life spent watching a small, hard object hurtle towards me at supersonic speeds, I reached out and locked my hand around her tiny wrist. "We're just...leaving," I said to Beth and to Gabrielle both at once. Gabrielle looked shocked as I dragged her behind me away from the two women sitting at the table.

When I looked back over my shoulder Julie looked confused but it was the expression on Beth's face that I felt all the way down to my balls. Her hand was pressed to her cheek where my hand had just been and she was watching me leave.

Christ we both felt it. It wasn't just me.

"Jonny?" Gabrielle pulled back against me hard enough to make me slow down as we headed up the block. I forced myself to look at her. She looked like a cheap knock off imitation and as I stared down at her I wondered how I'd ever been able to look at her any other way.

"This was a mistake," I told her. She blinked up at me, startled still but panicked now. I watched as the meaning of my words sunk in. I wasn't just talking about right now and she knew it.

"Oh...okay," she said breathlessly. Tears were welling up in her eyes. I'd done that. She'd be tweeting to all of her friends that I was an asshole in a matter of minutes and for once I didn't care. "I...I wasn't pressing for anything Jonny." I hated the way she said my name. I might have been wearing shorts but they weren't short pants.

"I don't have time," I told her gruffly. It was true. At least I wasn't lying. She looked back down the street to where Julia and Beth were still sitting on the patio of the restaurant and then she looked up at me. I could see her trying to put two and two together. "That's Bolland and Kaner's girlfriends," I snapped, correcting her before the math in her head reached infinity. It was true, I wasn't lying, but I didn't like saying it out loud. She was his. It made her sound like a possession.

I wanted to possess her so why did it sound so awful when I called her his, because I wanted her to be mine.

"Uh...okay," Gabrielle said softly and fished for something out of her purse. A tissue, oh Christ on a bike she was going to cry now.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again and meant it but not for this, just for the other stuff, the stuff that had come before.

"Yeah...okay," she said again. I nearly growled. I wanted her to scream at me. I wanted her to call me names and maybe pound her little fists against me. Not for her, not to make her feel better. It would be for me, because I felt so god damned guilty.

"Are you gonna be alright?" I asked softly. I raised my hand to touch her cheek, to brush away a single silver tear that slid down her cheek but then I let my hand drop. I didn't want to touch her, not even to make her feel better.

"Yeah," she sniffed and nodded and then looked away which meant she wasn't going to be fine at all.

"Uh good." It wasn't enough but I didn't really care. I wanted to be away from here. I wanted not to feel her _eyes_ still on me. If I stayed here much longer I'd go back and maybe next time I wouldn't be able to stop myself from doing all of the things that I wanted so badly to do.

"Good luck this season okay?" Gabrielle said softly. It took me off guard. I had no right to her well wishes. I was an asshole.

"Thanks...uh...you too," I said and then shoved my fists into my pockets. We stood there for another long, endlessly silent moment, neither of us looking at the other as people began to pour out of the office buildings around us. If we weren't careful we'd be dragged into the undertow of the rush hour migration.

"Umm well...bye then," she said softly and as she looked up at me her bottom lip quivered. For one second, one brief crazy moment, I almost gave in and took it all back. I wasn't going to actually go after one of my teammates girlfriends. That was a line guys like me couldn't afford to cross and I did need a release that wasn't my own hand. Gabrielle knew my predilections. I wouldn't have to break anyone else in, it would be easy but...

"Yeah, bye," I agreed. She dropped her gaze and turned. In less than a second I couldn't pick her out of the crowd on the sidewalk. She'd been swallowed up and carried away on the tide of humanity.

I turned and looked down the street and could barely make out the tables on the patio. I was taller than most on the sidewalk but I still had to go up on my tip toes to see that there were now two empty chairs where they had been.

It was probably a good thing, or at least that's what I told myself as I turned, my fists still in my pockets, and slunk away.


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry for the delay, long weekend and all. Hopefully I'm on a roll now  
><em>

**Chapter 9**

"Fuck."

I looked up from reading about the latest machinations of the Tea Party and watched Pat rip the sports pages into several, small pieces which he then tossed onto the floor like a toddler throwing a fit.

"Problem?" I asked, picking an errant piece of the paper out of my eggs.

"They always say the same things about me. They're always picking on me," he whined and then kicked the leg of the table, as if it too had done something to him.

"Then why do you read that stuff?" I asked and went back to reading actual news instead of conjecture about a season that hadn't even started yet.

"I dunno," he grumbled sullenly and started to poke at his breakfast like he was trying to kill it too. Sighing, I folded the part of the newspaper that I'd been reading, sat back in my chair and watched him squirm.

"You know damn well why you read that stuff," I urged him. He glared at me with icy blue eyes and shook his head. I narrowed my eyes at him and felt like I was about to have an argument with a five year old over eating his spinach. "You're looking for them to say good things but from what you tell me you know damn well you're the whipping boy so guess what? They're not gonna say anything positive until you do something positive for them to talk about."

"Oh yeah, like Captain Wonderpants!" he sulked. I rolled my eyes at the name but inside something stirred in the vicinity of my panties at the mere mention of the Captain of the Hawks.

"Why don't you...get involved in some kind of charity?" I offered. Pat made a noise deep in his throat that sounded partly like disgust and partly like resignation.

"I do stuff with the firemen and the troops all the time," he grumbled. I uncrossed my arms and pushed my chair back. Gathering the dishes, I took my time taking them to the sink while I thought about how I was going to say what was on my mind.

"I know you do things," I agreed quietly. He'd taken me along on one such outing, a fund raiser for two widows of local firefighters back in Buffalo whose lives had been taken in a warehouse fire. "But you don't do them publicly," I pointed out quietly. I heard the sound of disgust he made and smiled. All the things I'd read about him online pointed to his being a selfish spoiled rich kid who spent more money on beer than anything else. That wasn't the kid his parents had raised him to be, but few people saw that Patrick. "I know that's not the point," I agreed as I rinsed the plates and stacked them, one by one, into the dishwasher, "but if you want some good press..." I held up my hand to stop the protest I could hear in my head before he said it out loud. "I know that's not the point but for you...right now, I think it would be...helpful." His father took pride in Pat not calling attention to the work he did with charities back home but this was Chicago and here, his blue eyed boy was a black sheep.

"Okay, like what?" he grumbled. I smiled and closed the dishwasher.

"There's firefighters here right? Cops play firefighters in beer league...maybe you could do something with that?" I suggested, thinking about some of the tournaments I'd been to back home. Pat looked thoughtful and then smiled at me.

"Yeah, I guess I should call our press guy," he added thoughtfully, grabbing his phone off of the counter.

"Tell him not to invite any of the other guys," I called after him as he got to his feet and headed towards the living room. The request was as much for his sake as it was for mine, but I still felt guilty as I took the dish cloth and wiped down the table.

There had been something about the way that Captain Shoulders had touched me that had made sleep virtually impossible for days. I felt like a silly grade school girl with a crush on the quarterback of the varsity team. All I had to do was close my eyes and my skin still tingled at the memory of his touch and that felt disloyal, not to mention ungrateful.

"You know you're pretty _and_ smart?" I rolled my eyes but smiled at the touch of Pat's hand on the small of my back. He was still on his phone, obviously on hold by the sound of the ridiculous music coming from the vicinity of his ear. I stuck my tongue out at him but as I tried to head back to the sink he pulled me into his side. "I'll have to go in to the offices. Go put on one of those pretty new outfits and come with me."

It wasn't a request, but it was an order given with a boyish grin that was infectious, so I ignored a lack of the magic word and nodded. I also ignored the slap on my ass as I headed away from him. I just shook my head when he laughed and flipped him the bird over my shoulder.

* * *

><p>"I'm happy you want to get involved in something like this." Norm twirled his pen in his fingers as he rocked his big leather chair back. He didn't look happy. In fact he looked like I'd walked into his office with dog shit on my shoe and besides that he was spending way too much time looking at Beth.<p>

"I do stuff like this at home," I told him, just as Beth had suggested. "I just thought there might be some groups I could get involved with here." She squeezed my hand encouragingly and I forced a smile on my face. This meeting could have been worse, I knew. If it had been Stan Bowman he would have straight up called me on my shit by now but Norm was trying his best to figure out my angle.

"And you don't want to get the rest of the guys involved?" It wasn't the first time he'd asked me this since we'd got to his office and I was starting to squirm. I understood why she'd suggested it, to make sure someone else like Captain Yawn doesn't take credit for it, but I knew that Norm knew that I'd never come up with some shit like that on my own.

"Like I said, I...uh, work with some of these charities at home so...it doesn't have to be a big thing, I just had some ideas." I could feel Beth staring at me so hard that it felt like she was actually drilling a hole in the side of my head. This was where I was supposed to bring up the idea of a game, cops and firefighters, army versus navy, to raise money for widows and orphans. I just kept thinking that it would be more fun if some of the other guys got involved.

"We usually have you two working these things together." I knew this was going to come. Tazer and me, we're like the Men in Black, we're always together in all these commercials like we're best friends which isn't exactly the truth. We've roomed together on the road and I guess I get him but I wouldn't say we're buddies.

"Yeah I know but...like I said, I do this at home so..." It was my only argument. I didn't have any other to use, not without actually saying I didn't want Tazer stealing my thunder. That wasn't going to get me any brownie points and I badly needed those.

"Well...we'll see what we can put together," Norm shrugged and suddenly looked bored, like a cat does when the mouse no longer squeaks and squeals.

"Actually...," both of us turn and look at Beth, equal expressions of surprise on both of our faces, "I thought maybe I could help with that, or the WAGs could," she adds swiftly as Norm frowns at her. "The uh...ladies are putting together a few other events, so I thought I could add this to the schedule." Norm raises a single eyebrow at her and she visibly tenses. I wasn't ready for this or I'd have come to her defence but I'm as curious as he is where she's going with this. "I'd like to help," she ends quietly, twisting her hands together in her lap.

Norm looks over at me, still wearing a quizzical expression and for a moment I wonder if he's more shocked at her or at me for being with someone like her. I'm willing to bet it's the latter.

"Well...yes, certainly the organization is always happy to have an extra set of hands in cases like these," he smiles at her but still looks...curious. "If you'd like to stay behind Miss...Miss...?"

"Just Beth," she said quietly and smiled at him in that professional sort of 'I'm here because I have to be' kind of way that reminded me of Tazer at a press conference.

"Well, Beth," Norm enunciated her name like he was adding it to his mental address book and made a notation on the big calendar on his desk, "let's see what you and I can put together. You're checking in with the medical staff right Pat?" It was like being dismissed from the table when the adults didn't want you around anymore. I stared at him, half surprised and then got up to go but at the last minute, I turned back and reached to tip her lips up to mine.

"Thanks babe," I told her sincerely. It was strange having someone actually have my back for a change and I realized that I was grateful. She smiled up at me and reached up and patted my hand where it rested on her cheek. "I'll see you downstairs okay?" She nodded and then turned her attention to the man in the suit across the desk, like she was dismissing me too. I stared at the pair of them, and then shrugged. I wasn't really into the meeting thing anyway.

* * *

><p>"Our goal this year is the same as it is every year," I replied trying not to sound as irritated with the idiotic question the reporter in front of me had just posed, "to win the Cup," I added trying to force myself to smile when I said it. I wanted to say that I didn't want to suck like last year and that I wanted a better effort out of most of the guys but that was something that was best said in the room, not in public.<p>

"Are you looking forward to the season? How does the team look?" I breathed out through my nose and counted, silently, to ten while I ground my teeth together. It was the same questions from the same guys every fucking week and they had the stones to say that sometimes I sounded like a robot when I answered their stupid fucking questions.

"I can't wait to play," I answered truthfully. Practice was all well and good, necessary even, but it wasn't the same as getting out in front of the crowd of the Madhouse and hearing them cheer and scream my name. "We've got a great group of guys. We're all looking forward to getting going," I added knowing that happened to be more true of some guys than others.

"What will the lines look like and how long will Kane be out?" I was careful to keep my expression blank as I answered the question. The way Pat had played the last part of the season, injured or not, I didn't much care when he played again.

"I don't think any of the lines have been solidified. I mean, we have so much talent on this team it's a privilege to play with any of these guys. As far as Kaner goes, I guess you'll have to ask him," I added with what I hoped was a meaningful glance down the hallway, as if Pat could be coming out of the room any minute. He wasn't, of course, but there was something else that caught my eye down the dim concrete corridor. "That's it guy," I dismissed the reporters with my usual 'golly gee shucks' grin that made them all smile back at me and leave feeling like they had something.

I turned my back and waited for them to go, adding my gloves to the collection on the dryer, all the while keeping an eye on the woman that looked like she'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine, in a skirt that was short enough to be almost indecent, boots high enough that they hugged her knees and a mock neck sweater that was the perfect Kelly green to set off her copper waves. She was tapping one foot impatiently on the floor and keeping an eye on her watch as I ambled slowly down the hall, waiting for her to notice me.

Was it my imagination or did her eyes get big as she looked up at me?

"Pat's not here," I told her. Did she look surprised or maybe flustered? She was flushed. The colour looked beautiful in her cheeks.

"He _is_," she told me emphatically, hooking her thumb over her shoulder towards the door. I looked up at the name plate. It was the office the assistant coaches shared. I tried but knew that I failed to keep a sneer off my face.

"What'd he do this time?" She wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes at me.

"Do?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Had I been staring at the way her sweater pulled across her chest?

"Y'know, mug a cabbie, fall over drunk...you're not pregnant are you?" The first two were facts that normally were skirted around but I wasn't sure she knew and I was just petulant enough to bring up. The latter...well that was for my own information. She gaped at me, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. I'd gone too far and I knew it. I needed to back pedal and fast. "I'm just sayin', he gets himself into these scrapes...it was a joke," I added necessarily as she frowned at me, her gaze making it clear she thought I was being the worst kind of friend.

"We were organizing a...a thing," she muttered and glanced down the hall like she was expecting someone or maybe she just wanted to be rescued from me. Did I make her that nervous or was she actually angry? I hoped it was the former and not the latter.

"A _thing_?" I prodded, leaning on my stick and lowering my voice, trying to sound interested and not like I was prying. In those heels I bet she was as tall as Pat but with my skates on she only came up to the middle of my chest. I could have easily rested my arms on the top of her head. I liked that she had to look up at me. I would have liked it better had she been looking up at me from her knees.

"A fund raiser kind of...thing," she explained, her eyes darting to the empty hall behind me and then up at me with the kind of wariness that tells me she's definitely smarter than the average puck, too smart for Pat.

"With the Wags or...?" I prompted her, going for genuine curiosity. She pressed her lips into a thin line and shrugged with one shoulder. There was something she didn't want to tell me. I thought about pressing her, I kind of wanted to just to see how far I could, but I had an inkling she'd only get more and more defensive and I knew if I couldn't get it out of her I could always get it out of Pat. Failing that there was always the new receptionist in the GM's office with the long dark wavy hair.

* * *

><p>I couldn't breathe.<p>

He was trying to intimidate me one moment and mocking and arrogant the next and he wasn't so much looking at me as into me as if he was trying to see the thoughts in my head. He smelled of sweat and mildew and I wanted to roll in him like a dog on a dead fish.

"Ready to go?" I almost fell backwards as Pat tugged the door open behind me. I stared at him like I hadn't seen him before. He looked so 'normal' compared to the enormous sweaty man who was still leaning on his stick and now looking bemused as I grabbed onto Patrick like I'd been thrown a life preserver.

"So, you're doing a thing...without me?" Jon asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow Pat's direction, the corners of his lips almost turning up in a smile. He reminded me of a big tomcat toying with a mouse before he killed it.

"That's not a problem, is it?" Pat asked, looking and sounding defensive. I rubbed his arm gently, doing my best to be reassuring.

"No, I just thought we were the two amigos, y'know, we do everything together." Jon had a happy go lucky all American boy smile, with dimples and everything, but I could feel it disingenuous. His gaze slid to mine and there was something dark and brooding in it that made my flesh crawl like I'd touched a live battery. He wanted Pat to feel bad about keeping our plans from him but he wanted me to know he knew I was behind it.

"Uh huh," Pat frowned and then turned, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him down the empty hallway. I smirked at the back of his Goldilocks curl covered head, amused and a little surprised by his clipped non reply. I thought I was the only one with an issue with Captain Hot Stuff.

"What's up with you two?" I asked as we burst out into the late summer sunshine. I hoped my question sounded innocent and naive. Pat grumbled under his breath as he dug in his pockets for his keys.

"How d'ya think it feels to know your always gonna be the smaller, not as good, cheaper version of that?" he snapped and then sent an apologetic look my direction and shrugged. "He gets on my nerves sometimes." I nodded and gave him an encouraging and I hoped sympathetic smile while every word he said lined up with every thought I'd had myself. "Wanna get somethin' to eat?" he asked unlocking the Hummer and climbing in his side.

"Yeah...let's get out of here," I agreed, the angel on my right telling me that I should be loyal while the devil on my left looked longingly back towards the arena.


	10. Chapter 10

_you have no idea how the deferred gratification in this is driving me crazy...literally_

"It's a good turnout, better than I expected," I said as I peered out at the crowd in the arena. It was nowhere near the sell out crowd I was used to but I hadn't expected it to be _this_ full.

"Well they did a great job of marketing it," Beth said, leaning back against the wall of the tunnel and looking back at me with this bemused expression that kind of made me want to drag her to the equipment room and kiss the look right off her face.

"You mean _you_ did," I reminded her. She shrugged and said nothing. She'd used the team's and my twitter page to blow this event up, not to mention facebook and every other social media outlet she could think of. She'd run me off my feet sending me to every radio station from the university to the biggest sports radio station in the city and then she'd booked me on every local news station. I hadn't worked as hard since training camp for the Olympics. I wasn't the only one impressed either.

"Fabulous job," Norm extended his hand towards Beth. She looked down at it and looked honestly shocked. "You've obviously got a flair for marketing. We should talk," he added, gripping her hand once and then turning to head back down the tunnel. She stared after him and then turned her still wide eyes towards me.

"The man has a point," I smiled at her. It felt like I was getting an `atta-boy' too. "Like I keep saying, pretty and smart," I added, tapping her shin lightly with the blade of my stick. She frowned at me but smiled.

"Well go, finish off my work," she smirked but there was something in her eyes that told me she was proud of her success but I knew her well enough by now that the only way I was going to get that out of her was by tackling her and tickling her until she cried uncle. Maybe later, I thought as I heard the sound of the skates of the other guys start to come up the hallway.

"Well go out somewhere nice, after this, to celebrate," I promised. She shrugged and said nothing. Nice places didn't impress her. Pulling one glove off and holding it between my elbow and my side, I reached, hooked a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and tugged her closer to me. "How `bout a kiss for luck?" She wrinkled her nose.

"This..._smell_ is gonna take some getting used to," she coughed and stuck her tongue out.

"The quicker I get a kiss the faster the stink goes away," I promised. She rolled those green eyes of hers' at me, pinched her nose between her forefinger and thumb and then leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the corner of my mouth. "Aww, c'mon, you can do better than that," I laughed as she tried to pull away.

"Not while your cheering squad is watching," she whispered and tilted her chin in the direction of a group of pucks down by the glass. I'd already spotted them, I guess outta habit, but as soon as she drew my attention to them these girls started waving and making all kinds of noise.

Well shit. I hadn't had to think about this before. I'd heard some of the guys talking about how their girlfriends had a hard time dealing with the pucks. I looked at them and then at Beth. Somehow I wasn't worried about how she was going to deal with those girls. After all, I'd seen her in action at the bar back home.

Still...

"Sorry," I said, because I felt like I should. She shrugged and smirked.

"If one of them tries to pull my hair I'll break her surgically perfected little nose." I laughed. It was exactly what I'd thought she'd say.

"I'll meet you here, after the game, `kay?" I hadn't let go of her yet. She shrugged again and gave me those eyes that she did sometimes at home, when I was getting out of the shower. That look made my dick twitch behind the cup. Not a comfortable sensation.

"That depends on how you play," she purred, a sexy half smile on her face and then she licked her lips. Daaaamn.

"I thought this was for charity," I whined. "I was gonna go out there and fuck around, not do much of anything." This time when she shrugged she had an `oh well, your loss' look on her face. I groaned.

"That's not what the people paid to see Super Boy," she teased and then pressed another, butterfly light kiss on the corner of my mouth but this time one of her hands slid between us and she gave my cup a pat. I clenched my teeth. The woman did not play fair.

"Alriiiight, jeeeeezuzzz," I moaned. She giggled as I let her go and turned and sashayed down the hall, swinging her hips to the beat of the blood draining down into my balls.

"Remember, play good," she called over her shoulder. I just stared. I still didn't understand what kind of spell she'd put me under but I had it bad.

"That yours?" one of the guys in the firehouse red uniforms asked as he donned his helmet before hitting the ice.

"Yeah," I grinned, still watching her walk away, "I don't know how or why, but yeah."

* * *

><p>I had checked on the t-shirt sales and walked around the concourse as the crowd began to drain into their seats, a good feeling bubbling up in my chest. I'd done this. Well...not by myself, but it felt like my accomplishment all the same and I figuratively patted myself on the back for it as I bought a bag of popcorn and followed a young woman and her son down into the seats. He was wearing a bright red plastic fireman helmet and had a little black and white stuffed Dalmatian wearing a Hawks jersey under one arm.<p>

Little boys and their big dreams I thought as I found my seat and opened the bag, popping a dry and, to be honest, stale kernel into my mouth. I made a face and thought about rolling the bag shut again when a big hand reached over my shoulder and grabbed a handful out.

My panties knew who that disembodied hand belonged to before I turned to look but I had to satisfy my curiosity. Once I did, I wished I hadn't.

The self satisfied smirk he was wearing as he chewed made me want to toss the whole bag over his head. So did the way he was wearing his baseball hat on backwards like that made him cool. The way the white waffle shirt he was wearing screamed uncle across his shoulders made me want to chew it off him with my teeth.

"So this is what you've been trying to keep from me huh?" he asked, surveying the arena like it was his kingdom. I glared at him and turned back around. Pat was skating towards the red carpet they'd just rolled out at center ice. Someone was going to give him a microphone and he was going to give a short speech. He was worried about it. It pissed me off that Jon was there knowing he'd mock him in the room if he fucked this up. "I know everything about everything that happens around here," he whispered in my ear, reaching around me this time to dig his long, thick fingers into the popcorn. I didn't answer him. It didn't really matter now if he knew, except for this part.

"I...uh...I just wanna thank everyone for coming to the first annual Chicago PD versus FD charity hockey tournament." The crowd hooted and hollered. I looked up at his face on the big screen and watched Pat take a deep breath.

"You know you would have filled the place if you'd got me and a couple of the other guys involved," he whispered into my ear, interrupting. I turned and gave him my best death glare. He laughed and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. How was it, I wondered as I turned back around and tried to concentrate on what Pat was saying about his personal donation to the widows and orphans fund, that the blue eyed blonde haired All American boy was the black sheep while the dark eyed conceited bastard sitting behind me got to be the hero?

As Pat handed back the microphone and skated towards the bench to get his stick to take the opening face-off, his personal fan club erupted in high pitched screams. I glared at them too, my glare turning murderous when I heard what could only be described as a masculine giggle behind me.

"Y'know, I've always wondered this," he chuckled, climbing over the back of and sliding down into the empty seat beside me, "do they wait outside his place and do that when he gets out of his car?" He reached for more popcorn. I shoved the bag at him and got to my feet. All of the positive feelings I'd had about this moment were gone now.

"At least they're women. Most of _your _online stalkers seem to be boys," I snapped at him and then turned on my heel and started running up the stairs. I knew I couldn't out run him, not with those long, long legs of his, but I hoped that he'd leave me alone, even if I knew better.

"Hey," he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him at the top of the aisle, "it was just a joke. I thought it would make you laugh. All the WAGs hate those girls," he grinned, that crooked, butter wouldn't melt grin that was featured in every other picture of him on Tumblr. I stared at the center of his chest instead. "He will go back to them, maybe not tonight but his ego will lead him back down the path of least resistance eventually." It was a speech that was supposed to play on my insecurities. The only way that could work the way he obviously wanted it to was if I actually cared, which I didn't.

"You're really use to getting whatever you want, aren't you?" I said quietly, wrenching my arm from his grasp and making a move to go around him; a move he blocked as easily as he would have deked a defenseman out on the ice.

"I think you have me confused with your boy Buzz down there," he growled at me, his hand closing around my upper arm. It didn't hurt. In fact his whole big possessive guy routine was making my panties melt slowly like a candle. "I've had to work for _everything_ I have. I'm not saying I don't get what I want," he added, giving me one of those long, up and down glances, "_eventually_." I groaned and rolled my eyes because that's what I felt like I should do, it's what a loyal friend would do and what a girlfriend ought to do even if what I really wanted to do was dig my hands into his shirt and pull that smirk down and kiss it off his face.

"You really think you're something don't you?" I smirked at him and for the second time tried to wrench my arm free. This time I failed, miserably.

"I'm more interested with what _you_ think," he purred, leaning close, his dark eyes daring me to lie. I stared at him, concentrating on his eyes, which, unlike the rest of him were short enough of perfect that I could overrule my libido long enough to tell him a certain kind of truth.

"I think you should get down of that pedestal everyone around her has you on and ask yourself if you're the kind of man any woman would want." The smug smile on his face faded and his eyes darkened. My pulse leapt. Christ on a pogo stick the man was even sexier pissed off.

"He's a conceited self centered little asshole. You don't want to be with a guy like that," he hissed at me, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of my upper arm. I winced.

"I don't want to be with a guy that would try and muscle in on his best friend's girl," I replied very slowly. If I'd said it any faster I probably wouldn't have got it out at all. At the very least it would have gotten all breathy and sounded insincere. As it was, my blood was coursing through my veins so quickly I thought he must be able to hear it, must be able to see my heart beating in my chest.

"Best friend?" he sneered. "Is that what you think we are?" I took a deep breath in, kept my gaze level with his and smiled.

"It's what all these people think you are and I'm guessing that's exactly how the team wants it," I reminded him as calmly as I could. His mouth twitched. His nostrils flared and his fingers dug deep into my arm. "How am I going to explain those marks to Pat later?" I hissed at him. I thought it would make him let me go. It didn't. He pulled me closer so that his cheek brushed along side of mine and his lips brushed the outside of my ear.

"I want to put all kinds of marks on you." My body convulsed. It wasn't a shudder, a shiver or a tremble. It felt like I'd had those pedals they put on you to revive you. I could almost hear someone saying `charge to 300'. I closed my eyes. I could picture him closing his teeth around the ivory white skin of my breast and lower. I gasped.

I didn't even realize he'd let me go until a woman, a complete fucking stranger put her hand on me and peered at me like I'd just escaped a loony bin.

"Are you okay?" she asked. I blinked at her, bringing her into focus before glancing around me at the crowd now streaming into their seats.

"Yeah..., yeah just...dizzy I think," I smiled at her and she smiled back, probably glad I hadn't started muttering to myself or pulled a knife. "Thanks," I said again as I focused on his back, the mile wide width of his back as he disappeared into the crowd. "I'll be fine now," I promised, sucking in a long breath and turning to head back to my seat; alone.

* * *

><p>He was signing autographs and joking around with the guys like he was a good guy, like he didn't beat up cab drivers and get sauced and try and fuck their daughters the first chance he got. At least I could see that he'd made good on his promise to come to training camp in good shape s he sat there with his shirt off, the beginnings of a six pack showing.<p>

"Hey man, when did you get here?" he asked, grinning up at me like I was puck teetering on high heels with her boobs trying to escape her too tight top, like he was actually glad to see me. I shrugged.

"Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about," I replied with as big a shit eating grin I could manage, putting on a show.

"Wow, Toews right? Can I have your autograph?" Some guy with his two front teeth missing shoved his sweat soaked jersey at me. I nodded and smiled and pressed the jersey up against his back to sign down his number.

"How come you didn't play?" he asked me.

"Because he sucks," Pat laughed before I got a chance to answer.

"Well, technically Kaner's still on injured reserve," I corrected him and caught myself beginning to narrow my eyes at him. I put my happy go lucky mask back on and handed the guy his pen back."During the season we're obligated...some rule about no pick-up games, y'know, insurance or whatever," I added, doing my best to sound like a dumb jock just following the rules. I understood the rules and lived them to the letter. It was my teammate sitting there with a handful of hockey cards in one hand and a jiffy marker in the other that insisted on colouring outside the lines all of the time. Want some help with those Buzz?" I asked, grabbing a handful of cards and reaching for one of the sharpies on the bench.

"Great, thanks man," he grinned and punched my shoulder hard enough I wanted to wince but I didn't. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. It would be like letting your little brother know he could beat you at something. It was much better to suck it up and deal with the pain. "You shoulda played, it was a gas," he added, handing one of the guys' kids a card. The kid looked at him with huge, wide eyes; like he was someone amazing. I wanted to tell the kid's dad that there were way better role models in the room than either one of us but I kept my mouth shut and smiled.

"Well I hope you're gonna play better than that when the season starts." It was mean. It was meant to be and he laughed it off just like I knew he would.

"I'll show _you _up," he replied smugly. I nodded like that was the answer I was looking for. I signed a few more autographs, letting him relax before I went for the jugular.

"So you think that girl...what's her name? Do you think that's a good idea, the distraction? I mean, isn't that the kind of thing that gets you in all the trouble?" I kept my head down. I could feel him frowning at me. He hated this, when I got all big brother knows best on him.

"Fuck, jealous much?" I fucked up my signature, ending up writing most of it on my leg. I hadn't expected him to cut so close to the mark. He's not usually that astute.

"Just worried about you man, that's all." It was partly true but I couldn't look the guy in the face and say it.

"Yeah well..., maybe it's good, y'know, just one chick. Who'd have guessed y'know?" I had to give him that and nodding, I handed him the rest of the stack.

"Yeah but...how long's that gonna last?" I smiled down at him as I got to my feet and he grinned right back up at me.

"Yeah well...I guess we'll see huh? Wanna put some money on it?" I was opening my mouth to agree, because, well, I'd already put a bet on that in my head but the room got suddenly quiet around us and then Pat's grin faded at the edges.

"I'll take that bet." I knew the voice instantly. I didn't need the colour fade out of his cheeks to know she'd just walked into the room. I didn't look back. I kept my gaze focused on Pat's even as his rose to meet hers, his mouth twitching. He didn't know what to do.

"Are you sure you wanna do that?" I asked her, not him but anyone else in the room, including Kaner could be forgiven for thinking I was talking to him as my gaze remained on him.

"I'm nothing if not loyal," she said quietly but firmly and then she walked right by me and put herself on his lap, her arms twined around his neck but her eyes...those fucking jade orbs of hers' were all for me. "Got a fifty on ya baby?" she purred, letting one of those hands run down his bare chest. I felt my pulse double.

"In my jeans probably yeah," he laughed, the fucking moron actually laughed. Of course his hand was on her ass so I guess he had at least one reason to smile.

"Why don't you give me that fifty and I'll take one from Mr. Know it All here and I'll hold onto those and let's just see which one of you gives in first hmm?" she purred like a big contented cat and, while she stared right at me, planted a playful kiss on his sweaty cheek. I ground my teeth together. I was hating him right at that moment and her too...just a little.

"Wait...what does he have to do?" Kaner asked, predictably.

"Oh he has to do something _muuuuch_, much harder baby," she smiled up at me as she held her hand out towards me. "He has to be celibate for as long as you're faithful to me." Our gazes met and I knew she knew she was wounding me. Kitty cat can scratch and bite.

"Oh fuck, well you may as well give him the pot right now. I've roomed with the fucker, he hardly ever even wacks off in the shower," Kaner sighed and tipped her off his lap.

"Is that right?" she looked up at me from beneath her eyelashes and smiled. "That's too bad," she added softly, a poisonous smile tugging at the corners of her full lips, "maybe he's just never had anything to wack off to," and as she took the fifty from my hand she went up on tip toe and whispered in my ear, "like thinking about all the places you want to mark me and knowing he's doing it instead."

I nearly lost my balance as all the blood in my body rushed suddenly south. Ninety minutes ago she'd glared at me. Now she was baiting me. My head was swimming.

I practically ran after her into the corridor where the cops and firefighters kids, wives, girlfriends and families were milling around, not to mention a few members of the press. Normally that would have been enough to make me think twice, but not at that moment.

"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing?" I grabbed her wrist and swung her around to face me. She stared defiantly up at me but her eyes were glistening with tears I could tell she was doing her damndest not to let fall.

"You think that just because I'm some uneducated beer wench from Buffalo that you can just crook your finger and I'll come running...," she began and then shook her head and clamped her mouth shut.

"No," I hissed menacingly at her, "actually I was kind of picturing you crawling." Her eyes got wide and I knew, like I'd always had a feeling with her, that was exactly what she wanted. It was why she didn't really mind my clamping down on her wrist like this, or why her breathing hitched as I pressed her up against the concrete wall.

"You want to play games?" she whispered at me, defiance still in her gaze even as it focused on my mouth like she wanted it on her, wanted me to do things with it to her.

"Yesss, you have no idea," I replied, blowing out a breath I felt like I'd been holding since the moment I'd set eyes on her.

"I will come to you, I'll do whatever you want me to _if_...," she pressed the palm of her free hand on my sternum. It felt like it left a brand in the shape of her hand. "_If_ he cheats on me but you can't encourage him. You can't put those...sluts in his way. You can't encourage him. You can't...you can't give him ideas. In fact," she added as if it had just occurred to her to prick my skin with pins and pour molten hot wax into the wound, "you have to be his friend. You have to help him to be better. Do you hear me?" Her gaze had warmed, gone as molten as the wax I imagined her now pouring over my skin. I shook my head.

"Why? Why can't you just come with me now?" I asked, breathless with the need to have her, here, up against this wall, now, in front of everyone.

"Because I owe him that much and so do you," she whispered. If I thought her dare, her wicked little plan had been designed to taunt me, it was nothing compared to being made his keeper.

"Damn it!" I slammed my fist into the wall right beside her head. She shut her eyes but barely flinched.

"No one gives him a chance. I sure as hell didn't and from what I've seen you work pretty fucking hard at undermining him every chance you get. He's been good to me. I will _not_ throw that back in his face. Not just for something...," her eyes opened and for a long moment she stared straight ahead and then, slowly, she raised her gaze to meet mine and I knew...I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her. "Not for something that will just burn up in no time." I clenched my teeth together and fought the overwhelming urge to take her mouth, to force her to kiss me.

"He _will _fail...with or without anyone's help," I promised her. She shrugged one shoulder and the corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile that I felt right down to my nuts.

"Then you can have me, however you want me," she whispered and for one, fleeting moment I could see the promise of release in her gaze and then she ducked under my arm and fled like a fox pursued by a pack of dogs, ducking in and out of the crowd until she disappeared from view.

I leaned my head against the cool concrete wall and cursed under my breath but that couldn't cool my jets; nor did grabbing a stick from the wrack and breaking it over my knee. The only thing that was going to quench this fire was her, beneath me, begging me for more.


	11. Chapter 11

_I have to apologize for the wait on this one. There were things I wanted to do with this chapter that might not seem immediately important to you but they are nonetheless to me and they were flitting around like fireflies at the periphery of my vision driving me a bit bats this week so my apologies for the delay, here goes._

**Chapter 11**

"You gonna pick me up after practice. Some of the guys are gonna go to Blackie's after," Pat grinned enthusiastically as if the thought of a big greasy burger was the only thing he had to look forward to as he bent to press a kiss to my cheek.

"No, I have an interview, remember? I told you." I knew he hadn't thought that I was serious. His only reaction when I had told him about it was to ask if I needed money and then he'd just gone on with what he was doing as if I hadn't said a thing. Now he stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror as if I'd just said something in Swahili.

"But none of the WAGs have jobs," he cried, eyes wide as if my mere suggestion of holding down a job was tantamount to my taking out a sign on the side of the 'L' wearing a Canucks jersey. I rolled my eyes at him and went back to carefully applying eyeliner.

"That was part of the deal, remember?" I prompted, carefully drawing a dark brown line on my upper lid and then reaching for an angle brush to smudge it. Pat ran a hand through his golden curls which were getting longer than they had been during the summer and looked actually upset that I wanted to go out and make an honest living. I rolled my eyes at his reflection and tried to concentrate on my other eye.

"But _none_ of the WAGs work," he reiterated, this time a whine in his tone that reminded me that he was the only boy in a house full of girls where, if bad behaviour didn't get his mother's attention, whining might. Well it might work with his mom, I thought as I reached for a tube of tinted lip gloss, but it definitely won't with me.

"And that's their prerogative. I am going to though," I told him in what I hoped was a no-nonsense tone that would make it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You get that I have lots of money right?" he asked, desperation leaking into his voice. I raised one eyebrow at him in the mirror and smirked. "It's just...it's stupid for you to work when you can be...be...," he threw up his hands and I wondered if he didn't know the word or if he was afraid to say it out loud.

"You want me to be available whenever you want? Just snap your fingers and I come running?" A wide tooth filled grin replaced the worried frown he'd just been wearing and for a brief and shining moment he thought he'd won, until he caught on to the fact that I was being sarcastic.

"Well I didn't mean it like _that_!" he insisted and shoved his hands down into the pockets of his jeans and went back to looking sullen. I smiled as I closed my make-up case and stowed it under the sink.

"You did and that's okay," I said quietly as I wrapped my arms around his middle and leaned my head on his shoulder. "It's kind of sweet in a suffocating kind of way," I added doing my best to keep any amusement out of my voice. It was hard for me to believe that his ego, or any of the players on his team for that matter, could possibly be affected by having their significant other take a simple front office job.

"I just don't get it. You don't have to...," he began and I cut him off with look that made him sigh and shrug his shoulders.

"I _want_ to. This isn't about you Pat. It's the way I was raised. I just don't feel comfortable doing the whole parasite thing." I could see that he didn't quite know what I was trying to tell him, only that he knew he'd lost the argument.

"The guys are gonna ride me about this," he pouted, hanging his head so that his now more abundant curls fell into his forehead and nearly hid his blue eyes.

"Well you could tell them that at least I'm earning my way, not looking for a handout," I replied petulantly and then winced, thinking better of it. Most of the WAGs had children to take care of, and besides, I liked them. "Or...you could just tell them to fuck off."

"I think that would work better," he agreed and then slowly wrapped his arms around me, tilted his head backwards and surveyed me like I was a prize filly. "You look extra...pretty," he said, his lips turning up at one corner.

"Is that all? I was going for professional but modern, feminine but hard working." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged.

"You look pretty to me. I'd hire you," he smirked. I rolled my eyes.

"And I bet I can guess just what for too," I chuckled. His smirk grew into what only could be described as a lasciviously feral grin.

"Do you have time before your interview to uh...practice?" he asked, reaching up and dragging the elastic out of my hair and then running his fingers through it so that it fell softly around my shoulders.

"Practice huh?" I raised an eyebrow. He smiled, shrugged and then leaned in to capture my mouth with his, softly.

"They keep telling me practice makes everyone better," he whispered. "But no one will tell me how I can improve on perfection." I threw my head back and laughed.

* * *

><p>To see her sitting behind a desk in the office wearing prim, conservative office attire made me want to grab her by the pony tail that swung enticingly behind her head and force her up against the nearest wall just so that I could see if the blouse she was wearing felt as soft and as silky as her skin. She glanced sideways at me as she brought the file that Stan had buzzed for and her warm smile faded but only at the edges.<p>

She had to bend at the waist to hand the file across the long, wide mahogany desk and I can't help but take a long look at the way he tight slate gray pencil skirt she's wearing hugs the curve of her ass. She caught me looking and narrowed her eyes. I smiled. She frowned.

"Always at the top of the class as far as the fitness tests go," Stan noted, opening the folder and scanning the contents. I felt like flexing for her but settled on rolling my shoulders and watching her try not to watch.

"How'd Pat do?" I asked with my gaze still on her and she shot me a dark look. She said I had to play but she didn't say I had to play fair.

"Well that's why I called you in...umm thank you Beth," he said quietly as he dismissed her. She dropped her gaze and turned to head out the door but I could see that her lips were still pressed in a decidedly unhappy line.

Stan's gaze had returned to the pages in front of him so I indulged my new favourite pass time and watched her walk towards me, noting the way her blouse moved like liquid metal against her skin. As she came parallel to my chair I let my hand casually drop from the arm of the chair and reached out to brush my fingers up over her ankle. I didn't think it was my imagination, I was sure I heard her gasp.

I didn't stop there either. I slowly ran the back of my hand up her calf to the back of her knee where the fabric of her skirt pulled tight. Glancing up I found myself staring into two flashing orbs of green fire. Her red lips opened and formed the word 'stop'. I smiled up at her and trailed my fingers very slowly back down her calf.

"Beth...is there something else?" Stan queried without raising his eyes from the folder in front of him like he had eyes in the top of his head or something.

"No, sir, _nothing_ at all," she replied brusquely and left the room like she was hot footing it on burning coals. I watched her until the door closed behind her, smirking to myself. If she wanted games, I could play all _kinds_ of games.

"About Pat," Stan said slowly, bringing my attention back to him. I waited until he looked up from the folder and gave him my most receptive smile. "Joel and I, as I think you know, have been talking about some line juggling." I nodded. The subject had come up. "We just wanted your input. Who you think he'd be best paired with?"

The question took me by surprise. This kind of thing still did. I had to pinch myself to remind myself that I was actually the Captain of this team but more than that it just made no sense that my opinion mattered to men twice my age with more experience and more knowledge than I had yet to learn. It was flattering, but it made me anxious about saying something stupid. Plus there was the fact that, just selfishly, I wanted to play with Viktor and Hoss.

"I think Bolland and Hayes would give him room to move," I suggested. Putting Kaner on the third or fourth line would give the boys in the media something besides me to talk about. Stan tapped his pen on the paperwork in front of him and looked thoughtful.

"How do you think he's doing?" he asked without looking up at me. I swallowed my first reply which would have been to ask when the fuck did I become Kaner's keeper and instead I shrugged.

"He seems good, in shape, more focused than usual." Any more positive and Stan would think I was blowing smoke up his ass which I just about was.

"Good, well...I think he took us all by surprise with Beth." Stan raised his gaze slowly and then levelled it at me. Had he seen the looks shared between us? Despite the fact that most of the guys, myself included, thought Stan had cameras everywhere and eyes in the back of his head, I felt pretty confident that he hadn't.

"She seems like a stabilizing influence," I agreed noncommittally. Stan nodded, once and then closed he folder in front of him.

"I guess that's all for now. Thank you for your time Jonathan." I nodded, ignoring that he'd used my full name, which almost no one ever did anymore except Coach Q when he was pissed and of course my mother when I'm in trouble.

"No trouble," I smiled and got up and turned to leave already thinking about her sitting just on the other side of that door at one of those desks. I wondered if she'd look up when I walked through the door or if she'd pretend she didn't hear the door opening.

"And Jon..." I rolled my eyes. I should have known, it was too easy. "I turned and smiled patiently at Stan who was writing something in a leather bound date book on his desk. "Let's have a better season hmmm?"

"That's my goal," I replied politically instead of the first response that leapt to the tip of my tongue which was 'we fuckin' better'. I personally couldn't stand another disappointing season like the last one.

Speaking of which...

"Don't _ever_ do that again." She wasn't really filing. She was loitering near the filing cabinet waiting for me to come out of Stan's office. She hissed like a cat, narrowed her eyes at me and then spun on her heel and sashayed across the office, swinging her hips like a pendulum on a grandfather clock.

I waited for her to slide behind her desk, to sit and stare at her computer screen as if she couldn't see me and then I walked just past her, just far enough to let her think I was leaving and only then did I stop and turn back. I reached out and brushed my fingertips down the curve of her neck and then leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You can pretend you don't want me to touch you but we both know it's a lie." I felt her bristle but I heard her sharp intake of breath too.

"Stop," she hissed but she didn't try to brush my hand away, didn't duck away from my touch.

"Don't you mean..._more_?" I whispered, running my thumb up the back of her neck. I watched the goose bumps race across her skin and I wanted to chase them with my mouth.

I didn't wait for her to answer. I turned and left, whistling while I walked out of the office.

* * *

><p>"Do you want to watch something else?" I hit pause on the remote and waited to hear if she'd even heard me. Beth stared into space, unblinking. I didn't think she'd been watching the movie for some time now and the only reason I was watching it was because she'd chosen it. "Betts...something wrong?" I gave her knee a squeeze. She blinked and turned to smile at me.<p>

"Mmm?"

"This Doctor Winter Russian movie thing...you're not even watching it," I pointed out. She frowned and then heaved a sigh and rubbed her eyes. "It's making me cold," I added to make her smile again. She smirked and dug her toes further beneath my thigh.

"It's called Doctor Zhivago and you're lucky I'm not making you watch the original. At least you get to watch Keira Knightly," she pointed out. I shrugged.

"She needs to eat a cookie. You're prettier." She rolled her eyes at me but the look in her eyes changed, all the amusement leaking slowly from her eyes.

"What happened to that cocky boy that came into the bar that night?" she asked quietly.

"Whaddaya mean?" I asked, watching her looking at me as if I'd done something funny.

"I don't know," she said softly, sliding her feet out from under me, getting to her knees and then crawling across the couch towards me. "I just never imagined there was such a...a big softy underneath." She climbed into my lap and as I sat there, watching her, she cupped my cheeks in her hands and ran her thumbs along them.

"You care about me, don't you?" she asked quietly, a look of surprised wonder on her face.

"Yeah," I replied, frowning. She smiled then and leaned in and kissed me gently. When she tried to pull back I wrapped my arms around her and deepened the kiss. I heard the remote fall to the floor as I eased myself down into the cushions and pulled her down with me.

"Do you want me?" she whispered against my lips. I raised my hips and pressed my hard on against her to prove how much. She smiled down at me, raised herself up on her knees again and, as I watched, she pulled her t-shirt over her head. She had nice tits. I filled my hands with them and she leaned into my hand, covering my hands with her own as she closed her eyes. I squeezed them and rolled her nipples between my fingers and watched them grow.

Reaching back she pulled her hair out of her pony tail and shook it loose so that it fell softly around her shoulders, like flames licking snow white hills. I ran my hands down her rib cage and onto her hips and pressed myself up against her again. She smiled down at me as I eased her pyjama bottoms over her hips and then slid my hand inside.

She made a humming sound as I slid my fingers down into the valley of her pussy. She licked her lips as I strummed her clit with my thumb. As I slid my fingers further along her cleft and eased them up into her she lifted her tits up and together, and as I watched she tugged at her own nipples and then gasped.

"Yess," she hissed and threw her head back. I plunged my fingers up inside of her, in and out, in and out as she rocked against my hand. "Harder," she whispered and I did as she asked, driving my fingers as deeply into her pussy as I could, fast and hard. She squeezed one nipple between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand and reached down and pressed her other fingers against her clit. "Fasssster," she whispered breathlessly and I did, shoving three fingers up into her now.

"I want to fuck you." She shook her head, her mouth pressed closed.

"Not yet," she gasped, licking her lips and tilting her head back. I looked down at her fingers rotating quickly against her clit. "So clossse," she hissed, grimacing.

"It would be better with my dick inside you," I promised, pressing my now painful cock up against her. It wanted to be in the warm, tight wet of her pussy. She moaned but shook her head again.

"Not. Yet." she hissed more ferociously this time. I could feel her slickness covering my hand and I wanted her juices on my cock. She grunted and then clenched her teeth together and released a long, low groan. I lifted my hand and mimicked the way she squeezed and rolled her nipple and she gasped and then a slow, fucking sexy smile blossomed on her face.

"You like that?" I asked, thinking I'd hate it, that it would hurt.

"Yesss," she hissed, her eyes finally focusing on me. I squeezed harder and her mouth fell open in a soundless cry. I pressed my fingers up into her and pulled, then squeezed her nipple and then she cried out, a wordless sound of pure joy.


	12. Chapter 12

_I'm surprised at how much support there is for PKane...make me go hmmm_

**Chapter 12**

"Be good while I'm gone," he said before I could as he kissed the corner of my mouth like he was too cool to give me a full on lip smacking smooch in front of his teammates but he squeezed my hand at the same time like he was trying to make up for it in a secret handshake sort of way.

"I will," I promised, as if there were any alternative. I worked, I went home. I'd probably watch a bunch of girl movies and eat ice cream. There was the promise of a girl night out with some of the other WAGs to look forward to but I wasn't sure if he knew about that, or if he needed to.

Was it my imagination or did he let go of my hand a little reluctantly? I watched him turn and head into the airport with his teammates and felt...relief. I rolled my shoulders and shook out my hands. It felt like I'd been holding onto a rope for dear life and I'd suddenly been yanked to safety and could let go, like all the blood was suddenly rushing into my extremities and I could feel them again but hadn't realized that I couldn't before.

"And so it begins," Kelly-Rae sighed, still watching her man walk away. Duncan was talking animatedly with his hands as he and Patrick walked side by side into the terminal. He was either talking about a fish he caught or Kelly was a very lucky girl.

"What's that?" I asked, doing my best not to smirk.

"The worrying," she replied without hesitation.

"About him getting hurt?" I offered, thinking about what I'd heard about his concussion the season before. She shook her head immediately.

"Cheating," Dayna, Seabrook's fiancée piped up immediately. I turned to stare at the petite brunette and she shrugged. "Fact of life I'm afraid," she said almost apologetically, but not quite. I looked around at the other women and not one of them looked shocked.

"Okay, maybe not this early in the season," Julia piped up, "because the games don't matter as much so they don't necessarily feel the need to take it out on someone...oh!" her face fell and she reached over and touched my arm. "I'm sorry." She didn't say it wasn't true, or that it wouldn't happen to me, she just apologized as if she'd spoken out of turn. I shrugged. After all, I'd been warned.

"It's fine...I just thought I was the only one who had to worry," I said quietly and was rewarded with sympathetic smiles all the way around.

As we turned to go, the ladies now chatting about shopping and lunch, I caught sight of the Captain out of the corner of my eye. He was just disengaging himself from a scrum of reporters, looking grave and determined as always. I stopped to watch him sign one more autograph for a small, golden haired boy who he smiled down at and took the time to say something to before turning to go again which is when he looked over at me as if he'd known I was there all the time.

His intense gaze rooted me to the spot, as if my feet were sinking into wet concrete and I had no choice but to stand there and stare back at him. His mouth twitched at one corner, as if he was going to smile but thought better of it and then he twisted his face away and with a resolute set to his jaw, he headed towards the same gate the rest of his teammates had already disappeared into.

"Are you coming?" Julia called. I gave myself a shake and forced a smile back on my face.

"Coming!" I called back and found that I had full use of my limbs once again and turned to follow the ladies out to our cars.

* * *

><p>"Holy shit man, did you see that chick's tits?" Sharpie looked up between the two pairs that were currently a cunt hair away from his face and grinned as I stumbled off the dance floor. "I fuckin' love this place!" I cried before downing half a pint of something cool and bubbly. I licked my lips and then wiped them with the back of my hand. "C'mon man," I reached for Tazer but he shrugged my hand away. "Fuuuuck man, stick up your ass much?" I laughed as I headed back into the crowded dance floor. Sure we'd lost but the game was over now. To me there was no point in brooding over it. Of course for Captain Grouchy Pants there was always more time for worrying at things that coulda shoulda woulda.<p>

The place was hoppin', the chicks were hot and we hadn't had to pay for a beer yet. This was my kind of bar. It was hot out and every chick in the place was wearing next to nothing over their tanned, hot bodies. I'd had my first threesome the first time we'd come to this place. I could totally see me pulling off a foursome...or more tonight.

"Welcome to Miami," a blonde purred in my ear as she poured her body up against mine. I grinned and slid my hands down over her ass. Her breasts pressed against my chest and she licked her lips as she looked me up and down in that slow considering way before she raised her blue eyes to mine and gave me a slow, sultry smile. "Is it true," she purred in my ear and then gave my earlobe a tiny, playful bite, "what they say about professional athletes?" I gave her ass a squeeze and laughed.

"I don't know what they say but it's true about me," I promised and slid my hand up the back of her very short dress only to find smooth, toned flesh. I searched around, looking for that t-bar, that elastic at the top of a g-string and found none. "Mmm you're ready to go," I said appreciatively. She raised a drawn on eyebrow and smiled.

"Anytime baby," she purred and then licked those lips of hers. I could already see that blonde hair of hers bobbing over my dick and smiled to myself.

"I need to take a leak, I'll be right back. Stay here okay?" She pouted but nodded and I stumbled away from her. The club was so hot that my shirt was sticking to me and I needed another drink, even though the beers were going through me in record time.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Predictably it was Tazer who held his hand over my glass as I went to tip the pitcher into it. I frowned at him and then tipped the pitcher into my mouth. "You're drunk," he pointed out pointlessly.

"I am and I'm about to get lucky," I pointed out and turned to wave at the blonde in her disco ball dress. She waved back to me and pouted prettily. "What you doin'?" I grinned and peered around him. "Awww Tazer all alone," I stuck out my bottom lip but couldn't hold it. I laughed and took the pitcher with me. There was always a line up for the bathroom and I needed to hydrate.

"You have a girlfriend at home." I made a face as I turned around. Why was he following me? Guys didn't do the group bathroom thing.

"Yeaaaah aaaaand?" I smirked and continued on my way. Sure I'd promised to be a good boy but... "What she doesn't know won't hurt her right?" I offered him the pitcher. He shook his head. I wondered if he'd had anything to drink all night. I frowned as I tried to remember if I'd ever seen a drink in his hand. Captain No Fun, in da house.

"So you're okay losing the bet?" We'd reached the line. It wasn't too bad. There was only a couple guys holding the door open and a couple more inside waiting. I tipped the remainder of the cool golden suds into my mouth and then, very carefully, put the pitcher down on the floor. My head swam as I straightened up. I had a good buzz on.

"I only lose the bet if you tell her I lost the bet," I smiled up at Tazer who didn't smile back, "and you're not gonna tell her anything because what happens on the road," I tapped the guy in front of us in the line on the shoulder. He turned around and looked questioningly at me. "Hey, guy, what haaaaappens on the roooooad," I repeated slowly and he grinned and finished it with me, "staaaaays on the roooooad." I clapped him on the back like he'd given me a great pass that I'd scored on and he laughed. "Hey, that's the rule. I don't make the rules, I just know that's the rule," I added and then yawned.

"You're drunk," Tazer pointed out again. "You should go back to the hotel, alone, call her and then sleep it off." I opened my mouth to argue with him, to ask him if he'd seen how hot the blonde was I'd been dancing with but I yawned again and then the room sort of spun around me. I was kinda tired.

"You know...I _am_ kinda tired," I yawned again and leaned against the wall.

"What am I saying?" Captain Tedious ran his big meat hands through his short dark hair and frowned at me. "Do whatever the fuck you want. You want me to go get her for you?" he offered and I blinked at him. Christ I must be drunk I thought as I peered at him. Was he really offering to go get that girl for me to fuck?

"You totally couldn't pull a hottie like that if you tried," I smirked and it was back, that look, that dark, menacing, disapproving look.

"Faster than you could," he growled.

"You're fucking on man!" I laughed and then stumbled into the guy in front of me. "Sorry man, sorry. I just...I gotta pee like a racehorse y'know?" I grinned at him and after a moment's contemplation the guy shoved me ahead of him. "I'll be right behind you man! I'm gonna beat you to it Tazer!" I called and then stumbled towards the urinal, snickering to myself as I contemplated watching Captain Seriously Uncool try to pull.

* * *

><p>"Oh my gawd, I can't believe I'm here with Jonathan Toews." I sat on the edge of the hotel bed untying my shoes and clenching my teeth. This was turning into a very bad idea. First, giving in to beer pressure from Kane of all people and second, picking this red head to try and exorcise a certain woman's face from my brain. "The girls are so not gonna believe me when I tell them about this tomorrow. Can I take a picture?"<p>

"No," I snarled, kicking off my shoe and reaching for my bag. I pulled the zipper on the pocket at the end of the bag and reached in. "Open your mouth," I grumbled.

"Oh my gawd, oh my gawd," she squealed and clapped her hands like a little kid expecting a treat. What she got instead was a ball gag. She looked up at me with huge, terrified eyes as I pulled the band of the harness over the top of her head and secured it.

"Tell your friends about _this_," I smirked as I dragged her arms behind her and snapped a pair of handcuffs on her.

She made a noise that I was sure was an objection, which I ignored. If she screamed later there was a dozen people that saw her leave more than willingly with me and even more people that had seen her all over like a sunburn on a newbie on a nude beach.

I hauled her up onto her knees and put my hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her head down. She made another noise, this time it sounded angry and I ignored that one as well.

I stared at the black lace panties that stretched across her plump little ass and bet that when she'd put them on she'd been hoping to get lucky. They were getting laid kind of panties and I knew, if I pulled that lace fabric aside she'd be juicy wet and ready. After all, she was with me because she thought that I was somebody and that being with somebody was important. That thought didn't bother me but something else did.

This...this sight before me, a good looking girl trussed up and ready to be thoroughly fucked should have had me excited but I wasn't. All I could think of was Beth, sitting back at Pat's place, waiting to hear if one of us had been unfaithful and I'd made Sharpie take Kaner back to his room, alone.

"I'm sorry." I picked up the key from the side table and unlocked the handcuffs. "I must be too drunk," I added, a small attempt at being a gentleman. After all, she was a pretty girl and I didn't want her thinking that this was about her.

I unclipped the ball gag and slipped the harness over her head. The ball slipped from her mouth and she gasped, dragged the sheet up to cover herself and then looked at me over her shoulder. There were tears in her eyes but murder too.

"You...asshole," she hissed like a snake. I shrugged.

"I said I was sorry," I repeated, though it looked like an apology was not going to make everything all right with her. Not that I blamed her at all. "I'll go down the hall...give you some time to get dressed."

This little episode would no doubt be all over the internet in the next hour and then all of those bloggers would be having as much a field day with me as they ever did with Pat.

I shut the door to the room behind me and leaned heavily against it. This didn't happen to me. Women did not get under my skin and they never, ever stopped me from being able to do what I wanted to do. I didn't want her in my head and I'd hardly even touched her...yet.

* * *

><p>The bed was too big and too empty and I rolled over restlessly, unable to find a spot in it that would allow me to fall asleep. I could have blamed watching a dishy Colin Farrell playing a naughty vampire for keeping me awake but it wasn't thoughts of him that had me tossing and turning. Every time I closed my eyes I saw deep dark chocolate eyes alright, just not his.<p>

My phone vibrated and lit up and I cursed quietly. Pat had already drunk dialled me twice, slurring nonsense once and making a pathetic attempt at rapping the second time. I rolled over and faced away from my bedside table and squeezed my eyes shut. It was kind of cute once. It was just annoying now.

I gritted my teeth and waited for the beginning notes of "Club Can't Handle Me" to begin, altering me that Pat was calling again, but they didn't. Instead the sound of a robin's plaintive twilight cry told me it was only a text.

I lay there for a while, telling myself anything sent this late by text wasn't important, that I could read it in the morning, but the longer I tried to ignore it, the more my fingers itched to grab my phone. I rolled over and lay on my back and stared at the ceiling.

The way he'd looked at me at the airport kept replaying in my head. He hadn't so much as looked at me as looked into me, like he could see that I was thinking about him.

Did that mean I wanted Pat to fail?

I rolled over again and stared at my phone. It wasn't like Pat would text me and admit that he was doing something...or someone but someone else might. How would I feel about that? Would I be angry or relieved?

I rolled back over and faced away from my phone. If Jon texted me, throwing Pat under the bus, then he would have lost as well. How would I feel about _that_?

With a frustrated growl I reached for my phone and thumbed the bar across to unlock it. It was from Jon and it stole my breath.

_I want you _

_Right now_

_If I was there I wouldn't take no for an answer_

I put my phone down carefully and slid back onto the bed and just started at it, like it might suddenly develop fangs and come after me. I had the sudden urge to hide under the covers or leave the room altogether as if by doing so I could escape those words and the intent behind it.

Slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that might get the attention of the little piece of inert technology, I slid the drawer open on the night stand and dropped my phone into it. Then I shut the drawer fast and hard, pulled my blanket over my head and started to count sheep.


	13. Chapter 13

_be warned, some s&m, a little rough stuff_

Chapter 13

"She likes weird stuff."

I'd been listening to some Dead on my iPod and reading an article about backpacking through India, sort of zoned out and not making any attempt to join in on the conversations around me but that caught my attention.

Pat was sitting across the aisle from me with Carbomb which wouldn't have been the guy I'd have chosen to open up to. Under any other circumstances I'd have turned up the volume and ignored the conversation but this was about her and I needed ammunition.

"Like what? She wanna use a strap-on on ya?" Predictably Carcillo headed straight for the gutter. I rolled my eyes and was about to crank up the volume and go back to reading that article when Pat replied.

"She asked to me to spank her." I turned to look out the porthole window to hide the smirk that suddenly tugged at the corners of my mouth. My hand twitched as I thought about her tight ass all rosy and glowing from a thorough punishment.

"Cool!" Dan cackled and I rolled my eyes again. Dan probably started most of his dates that way.

"It's _not_ cool, it's...it's weird." I glanced across the aisle to see Pat make a face. What was she doing with him? He was just a boy and she was a woman that was clearly out of his league, despite what she thought of herself, which evidently wasn't much. He had no idea what to do with her and I knew, given the opportunity, I could strum her like a harp and make her come apart with barely a touch.

There had to have been some kind of cosmic malfunction. She could not have been meant to meet him when she so clearly was meant for me.

"Jesus Kaner, please tell me you've done more than the missionary position with all those sluts that sleep with you," Carbomb cackled and Pat slumped lower in his seat. I turned back to stare out the window to hide the smirk on my face. It wouldn't surprise me if he hadn't. He wasn't the most imaginative being on the planet.

"Of course I have," he insisted but everything about his body language screamed otherwise. There was a good reason Pat didn't play with Seabs and the rest of the stone faced poker players at the back of the plane. The guy was a shit liar.

"Okay, name _one_ funky assed thang you done," Emery asked, looming over the back of Pat's seat, setting Dan off cackling again as Pat slumped even lower in his seat like he was trying to disappear.

"I've done plenty," Pat seemed adamant but while we all waited he didn't offer any specifics.

"Uh huh, that's what I thought," Emery snickered, shook his head and went back to playing some kind of game on his iPad.

"What?" Pat snarled, crossed his arms defensively and scowled at the seat in front of him, "I have. I don't have to tell you guys." I kept my face turned away. Part of me felt sorry for him and that part of me wanted to stand up for the little guy that was being picked on except that this little guy was Pat and he'd asked for it.

* * *

><p>"Damn," I muttered as I stared down at my phone. I was in the middle of Downton Abbey and Carson was just about to sink that creepy Thomas's ship with Lord Crawley. I hit pause and reached blindly for my phone, sliding off the bed and heading for the bathroom at the same time. It was time to take my pill anyway.<p>

"What do you want?" I snapped as I walked away from the table and towards the bathroom.

"You didn't return my text," he said in a smooth, 'you know you're glad to hear from me' voice.

"I thought it was sort of rhetorical," I replied coolly. "I assumed if you had more...pertinent information to pass on to me, then you would have." I was sure I could hear him smiling at my sarcasm and the thought of that lop sided boyish grin almost made me smile.

"Our little wager would have been over if I hadn't sent Pat back to the hotel last night with Sharpie." I smiled to myself. So he did have an ulterior motive.

"So, what, you want brownie points?" I sniped.

"I want you, but I think we've already established that," he purred on the other end of the line. All the muscles below the brass button on my stretch jeans clenched happily at the idea. I scowled at my reflection in the mirror over the sink. "Buuut," he continued with a smirk in his voice, "I'm abiding by your damned rules. I could have let him cheat on you but those damn rules of yours got in the way." I saw the wickedly cynical grin appear on my face and recoiled, turning away from the mirror. Who was that woman who wanted to play with him like this, toy with both of them like a cat does a captured mouse?

"And what about you?" I asked because suddenly it was important that I know he was alone, that he also hadn't spent the night with some blonde with a fake'n'bake tan and Lee press on nails.

"Me?" I could hear the twinkle in his dark chocolate eyes from here and clenched my teeth together. It might have been easier if I just begged for it. "I told you, I'm playing by the rules you set out." That wicked grin crept back onto my face and this time I ran the back of my hand over my mouth to erase it.

"Whatever, I don't care what you do," I mumbled. How could he, from hundreds of miles away, have my knees turning to wet noodles and my panties melting like cheap candle wax?

"Uh-huh." His grin and his disbelief were audible. "I think you do, actually." Jesus he sounded pleased with himself.

"Fuck, you really think you're charming don't you?" I snapped, turning to stare at my own reflection as if it was him, snarling at it like a caged stray. "Well I suggest you ask Pat just how well all that smooth banter goes over with me." I hung up and threw my phone towards the foot of the bed. My hands were shaking, my pulse was racing and my libido was doing the Lambada all at the same time. My body wanted him. My brain, on the other hand, had picked up her skirts and was running the other direction as fast as her little feet could carry her. "Asshole," I hissed, staring daggers at my phone as if it had done something to displease me.

On cue the damn thing lit up and began to buzz. I crawled down the bed, reaching for it, ready to tell him that there was no way in hell...

_Zone out so much attention  
>Scream out I'm in the building<em>

_I'm rocking I'm rolling  
>I'm holding, I know it<em>

"Hey," I said softly, or as softly as I could considering that I had been about to yell. It still came out a bark.

"Hey yourself," he said casually and I could picture him sitting up on the bed, ankles crossed, surfing through channels looking for something to watch that would require the least amount of attention and intellectual input on his behalf.

"I did. Is Lecavalier as cute up close as he is on TV?" I teased.

"I dunno. He's so too tall so I try not to stand next to him too much. St. Louis on the other hand...," he added with a chuckle. Self effacing, this seemed new.

"How are all the boys? Bonding?" I asked. Would he admit what he'd done...what Jon claimed he'd done? Did I want him to?

"Yeah it's cool. I got a little sauced last night. Old stick up his ass and Mr. GQ made sure I got back alright though,' he added jovially. It was, at best, a partial admission and I would not press him for more. "I miss you," he said suddenly, out of the blue, and I was so taken aback that my next question, that had been on the tip of my tongue, dissolved.

Did I miss him? I searched my psyche and found a kind of void that I was unused to.

"The bed's too big without you and it's too quiet in the morning without you scraping your toast." He laughed, which was a good sound.

"Couple more days and I'll be home," he promised and the thought brought an unexpected smile to my face.

And then I thought about the conversation that I had just had.

"What...uh...what time do you think you'll be getting in?" I asked, wondering if there was any way to avoid seeing Jon.

"Late, I think," he replied and I could see the frown lines between his eyebrows. "I'll get a cab. Don't wait up," he suggested, causing me to breathe a sigh of relief. "Unless you want to, that is," he added cheekily and maybe a little hopefully too.

"We'll see about that," I replied, telling myself not to be such a fucking pussy.

* * *

><p>"Holy fuckin' hell Pat. How much do you pay her 'cuz I will outbid yo' ass." Emery reaches for his wallet and I just laugh and flip him the bird. He has a point though. I'm barely out of the plane but I've already picked her out of the crowd. Her flame coloured hair makes it easier but so does the knee high black boots and the red and black tartan school girl kilt. I adjust my bag, swinging it down in front of me as I descend the stairs.<p>

"Shit. Did you pay her extra to dress like that?" I smirk to myself as I try and come up with a witty come back for Ye Old Yawnfest himself.

"She does it just for me, but then, you wouldn't know about that because nobody loves you," I grin over my shoulder at him. He rolls his eyes and scans the crowd. I follow his gaze mostly because I can't really believe there's anything better to look at than Beth and find Gabrielle bouncing up and down and waving like a high school cheerleader at a pep rally. "I thought you broke up with her." It's not a question. I remember him saying it. I also remember thinking, for about thirty seconds, how I'd wanted to take a poke at that. Then I look back at Beth in the teenie weenie skirt and the tight black top under her motorcycle jacket and remember that I've got something way better to go home to.

"It's none of your business," Toews growls as we hit the tarmac and he brushes past me, his bag brushing me hard enough it makes me stumble. I stare after him, seriously considering calling him out on his shit but I decide against it. There's too many people around for one thing and a lot of them that would try and tear me off of him just because he's the captain. I do file it away though, for later. I'm so fucking sick of him walking around like he's Captain Turd of Shit Island.

"Hey sexy," I drop my bag and wrap my arms around her tiny waist, pulling her up hard against me. She too is staring after Tazer, a frown making her smile upside down. "Fuck him, he's an ass," I tell her and her gaze swivels back to me and she smiles. It's not a big shit eating welcome home smile, but it's a soft sort of fire in the hearth kind of smile that makes me forget that I wanted to punch Jon in the face. "Is...uh...is all this for me?" I ask, dropping one hand down over her ass and flipping the back of her skirt up just a little. Her smile grins into something more playful.

"Yeah, you like?" she asks, the point of her little pink tongue sweeping over her bottom lip, making me stare at it.

"Please tell me you drove the Hummer here because I am so gonna fuck you in the back of it right now," I promise her right before I kiss her, hard, right there in front of everyone. I press the flat of my hand over the curve of her ass and let her know that I'm definitely not lying about that. She giggles breathlessly and, I think, a little nervously as I reach for her hand and started jogging for the car.

* * *

><p>His eyes get big and his grin grows exponentially when he sees the plain jane white cotton panties I'm wearing under the skirt. Pat's funny like that. He so confused over the whole whore and Madonna thing. One minute it's the boots and the short skirt that has him hard and the next minute it's the girl next door white cotton panties.<p>

"Fuuuck," he groans appreciatively and then swipes his fingers up along the lips of my pussy, making an indentation in the fabric.

"I thought you wanted to fuck me," I tease, bracing one heel on the back of the driver seat's head rest and throwing my other leg over the middle of the back seats while he unbuckles his suit pants like they're on fire.

He pulls his dick out and strokes it, running his fist up and down the short, thick length of it like he's just going to kneel there between my legs and spank off. I frown up at him as he continues to stare up between my thighs.

"Just so fuckin' hot," he mumbles, working his dick like he's trying to pull the skin off of it.

"Don't you wanna...touch me?" I ask, sliding my hand down and deliberately slowly run my fingers up my cleft. He groans and squeezes the head of his dick like he can stop himself from exploding.

"Oh god baby that's so fuckin' hot, do it again," he moans. I hadn't really been into it until that moment but the look of pure lust in his eyes and the way he licks his lips as he kneels there, pretty much worshipping me, I can't help but find hot. So I reward him, slipping my fingers down into my panties and making a show of working them down until I shove two fingers deep into my entrance. His gaze never stops following my fingers and the moment he sees my fingers bend and dive into my pussy he gasps and sort of shutters. "Oh shit...oh...yeah get on your knees baby, daddy is so gonna fuck your tight little snatch."

I stifle a giggle, just barely as I squirm up onto the seat, one knee bent on the seat the other one sort of stuck out at an angle and braced against the back of the passenger seat and the transmission tunnel. I reach out and grab the back of both seats while he shoves my panties down to my knees and then the whole vehicle rocks as he shoves his cock into me.

"Oh god, baby, so hot," he cries out, his hands around my waist as he pulls back and then shoves his cock home again. I feel his thighs press against the back of mine and have to readjust, pressing one hand to the fogged up window to stop him from shoving me through it. He backs out and rams himself home again and lets out a long, low groan right before I feel him let go and I spread my fingers on the glass, clearing it, and see _him_...staring at me from the darkness inside of his car as he pulls out of the parking space.

If looks could kill...

I let a slow, satisfied grin spread across my face, though in face I am far from physically satisfied. But I have won this round and that, for the moment, is satisfaction enough.

* * *

><p>"Jonny, you're hurting me!"<p>

I hear her say it. I just choose to ignore it. She should never have answered my call. I'd been a complete asshole to her and she came crawling back the first opportunity I gave her. She deserves it.

I admire the rosy imprint my hand has left on her ass as she squirms and yanks against the restraints. She can't get free but her brain is telling her to try. She can't fight me and she knows it so what other choice has she got but to flee, hence the restraints.

"Be still," I growl and bring my hand down on her other ass cheek, leaving behind another glowing, red imprint. She cries out and her body bucks but as I slip my fingers down into her peach I find her warm and dripping wet.

"Jonny, pleeeeeze," she sniffs and I roll my eyes. It's too soon to beg. I've hardly fucking begun and it pisses me off.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." I snap and bring my hand down even harder this time. She cries out, a thin, high pitched sound that makes my cock jump and my balls tighten up. Mmm, that I like. I also like the way she's bent over this bench, her ass in the air at just the right angle. I could fuck either hole and consider it, dipping my fingers into her snatch and sliding them back out and northwards, making a slow, gleaming circle around her tight little asshole. She whimpers. Oh yes, she loves that. She'll say no and she'll resist and that will only make it sweeter, tighter, hotter. I dip my fingers into her honey hole and drag them back upwards towards her ass and she begins to squirm. "Do you want me to fuck your twat or your ass Gabby?" I ask her, not like I'm actually going to give her a choice. I decide, right before she answers, that whatever she decides I'm going to do the opposite. I'm in that kind of a mood.

"I want you to fuck my sweet little ass," she purrs and I roll my eyes again. She's so fucking predictable. It's no wonder things didn't work out between us.

Grabbing a condom, I rip the foil packet with my teeth and then shove my jeans down over my hips. She can hear it, knows what's happening and I can watch her pussy lips swell in anticipation. Her own juices are running down her thighs already, she's so fucking hot for it.

I grab her narrow hips and shove my cock deep into her pussy and she cries out like I've hit her. Her head falls back sending a cascade of that frosted fake blonde hair of hers over her shoulders. I slowly back my cock out and watch it reappear, covered in her gleaming juices and then shove it back in, hard and fast. She cries out again and this time there's an edge of pain to her tone that makes me grin.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk out of here," I promise and she whimpers. Her thighs are beginning to quiver. She's going to cum soon.

"Oh yes please," she begs and I feel my nostrils flare as I look down at her in disgust. Begging, so soon, it's unbecoming.

"You little whore," I growl and smack her ass so hard that her butt jiggles, which is really quite a feat, considering how skinny she is. She howls and the muscles in her snatch close down hard around my cock. It's so good I almost moan.

"Yess, baby, your whore," she moans and it's so standard cheap porn it makes me gag.

"Yes..._what_?" I growl and smack her again. A lovely, pink welt comes up immediately and her cry fills the room in the most satisfying way that I feel my scrotum clench in pure pleasure.

"Yesssss sirrr," she moans like a ten dollar whore and I grin, pull out until I'm almost all of the way out and then slam back inside of her I slap her ass again. Her pussy clenches and it's almost impossible to shove my dick into her. The sensation almost makes me cum.

It does make her unravel beneath me, her entire body shaking, convulsing almost as she cries out, over and over again as I fuck her hard and fast, fucking through her orgasm and racing towards my own. I feel her go slack in her bonds and I don't care. I'm not thinking about her anymore. I'm thinking about Beth, about what he was doing to her in that car, in that little kilt with those boots. I close my eyes and imagine that skirt flipped up over her pale skin, the curve of her ass in my hand as I fuck her and that fucking sexy grin of hers looking over her shoulder at me as I stuff myself deep in her tight little snatch.

"Oh...fuuuuck yes...oh Betttthhhhh!" My back bows as wave after wave of pleasure hit me, as my balls empty into the condom, shooting load after load until I wonder if the condom can take anymore. I see white lights dancing in front of my eyes and my entire body is rigid, like I've been hit by lightening. This is what it would be like with her, I know. I know it in my gut.

"_Beth_?" I sag onto Gabrielle's back and slide, soft, out of her. "Who the _fuck_ is Beth?" I don't answer her. I slide the condom off, checking to see if it's split open before tying it off and tossing it into a nearby waste basket. I sit there beside Gabby, drawing my knees up so I can lay my head on the back of my hands and catch my breath.

"None of your concern," I mumble, my eyes closed as my breathing begins to return to normal.

"Ummm, yeah, you just fucked me and called me some other woman's name. I think I have a right to know." I chuckle, my shoulders heaving, and shake my head.

"You don't have a right to anything," I tell her, running my fingers through my hair. There's a fine layer of sweat on my scalp. I'll sleep better now.

Slowly I get to my feet and undo all of her bonds. She watches me through narrowed, unhappy eyes. I don't care. For weeks now I've felt like I've been walking around in a fog, like I couldn't see straight. Now, for the first time in a long time, I suddenly feel like I'm not going blind.

"I'm gonna have a shower, you coming?" she asks and as I watch she struggles to her feet. Her legs are still shaking. She'll still feel like that in the morning and for a moment that thought makes me smile.

"No, get out," I grunt, lowering myself to the bench. I feel relaxed. I haven't felt relaxed in a long while and I know if Gabrielle stayed I wouldn't relax.

"Out?" she repeats, trying to look all tough with her fists on her hips. I almost laugh. It's kinda funny to look tough with my teeth marks on her tits.

"Yes, out. Thanks for...coming over," I add, to be gentlemanly or because it's polite or something, "but I have to get some sleep so...yeah." She blinks at me and then, making a huffing noise, grabs her bra from where it's hanging from the play chest nearby.

"My panties are in your car!" she snaps and I smile again, thinking about how I made her take them off, made her touch herself in my Mercedes and how that guy in the eighteen wheeler got one hell of a show.

"I'll mail them to you," I grumble and then pull my pants up so I can get at my wallet. I hold a twenty out to her. "This should get you home." She stares at the bill and then at me and snatches it out my hand with a sob. She practically runs out of the room and I know I've been an ass again but I don't care. She should never have agreed to meet me. I wouldn't have hurt her again if she had just stayed away.

And I wouldn't have lost the bet.


	14. Chapter 14

_I know, I know, long wait but it's summer and there's things to do and beers to drink and with no hockey to watch it's kind of hard to keep focused but I'll try!**  
><strong>_

**Chapter 14**

I don't usually like coming home from a road trip. Usually I prefer to be on the road, mostly because home means looking after myself; cooking and trying to figure out how to entertain myself. Now I didn't have to do any of that.

I had Beth.

Waking up and hearing her in the shower felt...comforting. Reaching over and brushing my hand across the still warm sheets where she'd slept beside me felt peaceful, as did her scent which was everywhere, not just on the pillow next to me.

There were those candles that were all along the mantle over the gas fireplace that smelled like cookies right out of the oven and then there was lotion she put on, that scent was everywhere; in the bed, the bathroom and even my car. It smelled...well not flowery and not sugary exactly but something in between. I found I liked getting in my car and catching just a hint of it, or opening the front door and there it was again. It was like putting on my favourite pair of sweats and sitting down with one of those forbidden sugary cereals on a Sunday morning. It made me like coming home.

Thinking about that made my stomach growl so I rolled over and after a yawn and a stretch I headed for the kitchen. My fridge had never had this much actual food in it before. I had actual choices. I opted for a tub of this Greek Yogurt she was always eating and grabbed the bag of granola she'd gotten me hooked on and headed for the table.

"How about a bowl?" she slid one in front of me and snatched the tub just before I was about to dump the granola into it. "Do you want oj or apple juice with that?"

"Uh...coffee," I replied as she scooped the thick white yogurt into the bowl in front of me. Sometimes it was also a bit like having my mom or one of my sisters around. She gave me one of those 'were you raised in a barn' looks and then walked back to the fridge and put the rest of the yogurt away. I watched her move around the kitchen like she'd lived here for years and not just weeks. There were different kinds of coffee in my cupboards now and we'd even bought one of those fancy espresso making machines so that I didn't insist on going to Starbucks every morning, even though I'd pointed out that it was right downstairs. "Aren't you eating anything?" I asked when the she handed me a steaming froth topped cup and sat down to nurse one of her own.

"I will, at the office. They always have stuff there," she mumbled, staring into the distance. She'd done that, stared into space like that, on the drive home and even after we'd gone to bed where she'd sat with a book propped against her knees. I knew she'd hardly turned the pages at all.

"Are you...is something wrong?" I wasn't used to caring about how someone else felt. I mean, apart from my sisters and my mom, I usually didn't have to. My dad is like me, or I'm like him. We don't go around just 'feeling things' and we certainly don't talk about it.

She glanced over at me and gave me half a smile.

"Fine, you?" It looked like an honest answer but I felt this urge to press her, just to be sure.

"If you don't want to go to work or something...," I began, only to watch her half of a smile become a full one.

"I like work, actually," she said and pursed her lips as she studied me through narrowed eyes. "Are you even allowed to pull a sicky? I assume that's what you're suggesting," she added, looking amused.

"No, not really. I mean...yeah sometimes you say you've tweaked something and you get a 'maintenance day' but that's about it," I replied honestly. She smiled and took a sip of coffee and after a minute I did too while I wondered if I asked her to spend the day in bed with me if she would and if I wanted her to. I felt sort of surprised that the idea appealed to me but then decided it was still too early in the season to be pulling the injury card.

"Maybe we could do something after you get out of practice, take me for lunch or something?" she suggested. I nodded eagerly.

"We could go to Perry's," I recommended, my mouth watering at the thought of the corned beef on rye. She smiled at me over her coffee.

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p>The wolf whistles started before I'd even made my way down the corridor. I shook a finger at Duncs and Seabs who were standing at the end of the bench and I couldn't help but smile when Pat turned, mid stride, to aim a wide grin at me, which sent him skating full speed into Hoss's back which, fortunately, didn't even faze the big forward. It did make all the guys laugh though. Well, <em>almost<em> all of the guys. Jon leaned against the low wall in front of the bench and stared at me with those fathomless dark eyes of his and his lips didn't even twitch, never mind form an actual smile.

"I need your signature on a couple things," I said quietly, holding a clip board towards Coach Q whose expression immediately morphed from murderous to the kind and gentle teddy bear grin that hid behind that big bushy moustache

As he took the clipboard from me and the rest of the guys went back to horsing around out on the ice, Jon continued to stare at me with this menacing expression on his face, like I'd done something to piss him off. The thought of what I'd done...what Pat and I had done...what he had seen us do made me turn away.

"So how you fitting in Beth?" Coach Q asked without looking up from the paperwork in front of him. It was a press release, not really something that required his immediate and undivided attention but anything with his or any of the other management's names in it had to have approval.

"Fine," I replied, worried if I said more that I'd give away just how nervous it made me to be there, to have Jon staring at me so intently. I could feel sweat begin to trickle down the back of my neck.

"Well, you gonna say hello to your young man before I make him skate 'til he pukes?" he grinned as he handed me the clipboard and I felt my entire face get hot. I told myself he was just being nice, nicer than he had to be, but it felt like everyone knew.

"Uh...nah," I smiled back at him. "Y'know, treat 'em mean..." The Coach's eyes lit up and he let out a bark of laughter as he laid one massive bear paw on my shoulder.

"Thatta girl," he smirked and then blew his whistle so hard I winced. All of the guys raced onto the ice. All of the guys except Jon who remained where he was, leaning against the low wall in front of the bench. I told myself not to look though I knew it wouldn't accomplish anything to play it cool and still, I looked.

He tipped one of the water bottles into his mouth. Most of the water went into his parted lips, making the muscles in his thick neck work as he swallowed, but some of it trickled down over his chin, down his neck and disappeared into his jersey. I followed the progress of the clear, cool liquid and licked my lips. I wanted, very much, to lick every last drop from his skin.

As if he knew I was watching, and he probably did, he turned towards me upended the bottle over his head, sending a cascade of water over his short, dark hair. My breath came out in a gasp as the water plastered his hair to his head, giving me an image of what it would be like to look up at him, sweat dampened, working hard over me.

I tore my gaze away and forced myself to walk slowly away, down the tunnel. Not run but walk, with measured steps until I could turn the corner of the hallway and lean against the cool concrete wall. I pressed my thighs together, the slight pressure and friction enough to make me gasp and send the clipboard clattering to the ground.

* * *

><p>I dodged the usual smattering of reporters waiting for a sound bite outside the dressing room calling out a good natured apology I didn't mean at all and promising that Kaner would be glad to talk to them. That would only hold him up a few minutes, if at all. Pat wasn't one for speech making.<p>

She was collecting her purse and checking her phone as she got up from behind her desk. She heard me come in but the smile that died the moment she saw it was me standing in the doorway told me clearly she'd been expecting him.

"I have plans," she hissed, trying to slip by me, which was impossible, or at least I made it so, filling the doorway easily and blocking her one and only escape route.

"He'll be here, soon," I told her, looking over her shoulder to confirm that the GM's door was open and the room dark. They had already gone for lunch. We were alone.

She had gone very still, the way a bird will sometimes when it knows it is being watched, as if it can fool you into thinking it is a statue or that it doesn't exist at all. There was no chance of my thinking that of Beth. The scent coming from her skin filled my head and the desire to run my tongue over her skin to see if it tasted as sweet as it smelled was nearly overwhelming.

"I lost, I'm out," I told her. She continued to stare at the centre of my chest, as if by not looking up at me she could pretend that I wasn't there. I wasn't about to let her fool herself into thinking that. I cupped her chin in my hand and despite her attempt to defy me, I managed to force her angry gaze to meet mine. "But then I think you knew that would happen. You knew that if I couldn't have you I would make someone a poor imitation." The corner of her mouth twitched as if that thought would make her smile but she quickly controlled her expression and continued to stare defiantly at me.

"Is that what _she_ was doing there?" she asked, her voice dripping with envy while her gaze remained more or less neutral.

"Oh the _things_ that I did to her," I whispered, lowering my lips to her ear, "I'm sure she's still having trouble sitting down." She tried, oh she tried so hard but a shiver ran the length of her body and I could feel it as I run my knuckle along the curve of her neck to her shoulder. "I thought of you when I did those things Beth. I think you would like me to do those things to you." It's not a question. I already know the answer. Her breathing shortened and as I pulled back enough to look down into her eyes, her pupils were large and her lips parted, ready for a kiss. A kiss I wanted to give her, but not yet.

"Does she come every time you call?" I knew that what she'd meant to say was when I say jump Gabby asks how high and the answer was, of course, yes, but I couldn't help but grin at the double entendre.

"I think I could make you cum just by telling you to," I whispered, my lips almost touching hers. Her breath hitched and she looked so exquisitely frightened and turned on all at the same time that I had to restrain myself from picking her and carrying her back over to her desk. It would have been easy to bend her over it and the way she licked her lips as she looked up at me with a silent plea in her eyes told me that she would let me do it too. "In fact," I whisper, pressing her back into the room, "if I told you to touch yourself right now, I bet you'd cum for me."

She blinked at me, and it's there, the vision in her pretty little head and as I watched, she battled with herself over the idea. It was pretty clear to me that something about it appealed to her. Maybe the idea that she'd have some sort of power over me by making me watch, as if that is all that I would do. Still, she gave the idea some thought before shaking her head slowly from side to side.

"_He_ hasn't lost yet," she whispered hoarsely and then made a break for it, trying to deke around me but I haven't trained for years to be bypassed by some rookie. Before I've even thought about doing it my arm snapped out and easily grabbed hers', stopping her in her tracks and pulling her against me.

"Oh but he _will_," I promised her, grabbing both of her shoulders and pressing my mouth over hers' in a kiss that she fought, at first and then, with a whimper, yielded to. I kissed her hard, wanting her lips to be swollen, to have been kissed when he saw her. He would not ask because he's a pussy, but he would know someone had kissed her, hard and thoroughly, the way a woman should be kissed.

It stung when she slapped me but it wasn't because of the sensation of the palm of her hand coming into contact with my cheek that made me let her go. I only had two choices; it was that or take her there, in that room, right then and there. It would have been good, I had no doubt about that at all, but it wasn't not what I want.

"But he _hasn't_," she gasped and brushed the back of her hand across her mouth as if she can erase my kiss and this time I let her go when she pulls to free her arm and charges by me. I listen to her heels clicking down the hall and hear him call out to her, a happy go lucky greeting that I roll my eyes at. He might not have been so happy if he'd seen me kissing his girl, or better than that, fucking her over her desk.

The golden boy; I can't help but think how sweet it will be when he realizes that I've taken her from him and with that vision in my mind, I whistled tunelessly as I headed out into the hallway.


	15. Chapter 15

_With the heat we've been having I haven't really wanted to be stuck in the computer room at home so I apologize for the tardiness of this chapter and now I'm going to run and hide from the Kaner fans_

**Chapter 15**

"Wait...what? No. Shit." It was a pretty definitive sounding no and when I looked over my shoulder at him, Pat was staring back at me like I'd just uttered something truly vile. "I didn't say pull it _out_, I just said pull _on_ it," I directed, tossing my pony tail and aiming a playful smile in his direction, hoping that he'd follow along, finally.

"But why?" I could see it in his face, the sort of psychological blockage that is the result of years of being told not to do something. In Pat's case it had to be the result of years of being told not to pull his sister's pig tails.

"Because I asked you to?" I suggested hopefully. Pat looked at where my hair had just slid back down over my shoulder and then his gaze slowly slid back down to my ass. The same ass that I'd asked him to spank, which he also hadn't done

"Yeah...but why?" he looked downright uncomfortable and then he looked at me like I was the source of that discomfort. It didn't go long way towards making me feel pretty.

"Because, Pat! Because I _like_ it like that, okay? Jesus Pat, it kind of ruins it if you have to ask _why_ every time!" I scrambled away from him and pulled the sheet with me so that I could pout without being naked. Being vulnerable is one thing but naked _and_ vulnerable is too much to ask of anyone.

"I just don't get why you want me to do that stuff." Pat sat at the end of the bed looking a little bit like that famous statue 'The Thinker ' although Pat looked more like 'the pouter'.

"It's called foreplay," I grumbled, exasperated and managing, but only just, not to add 'something you obviously don't understand anything about' out loud. There were a lot of things about Pat that I liked, but this part, the bedroom part, was still not working for us and it wasn't for a lack of trying.

"No that's just fooling around...I'm not...I don't like all that kinky shit," he muttered and as he looked over at me through his eyelashes, there was consternation in his gaze but there was also fear. Letting my own frustration leak away, I let go of the sheet and what little protection it afforded and crawled across the mattress towards him.

"I would tell you if you were hurting me, if that's what you're worried about," I offered, wrapping him up with both my arms and my legs while he sat, motionless and didn't even make the smallest of attempts to return the affection or accept the comfort I was trying to impart.

"I like you, okay? I don't want to hurt you and I don't get why you want me to." Up until this very point I assumed his conservative tastes in the bedroom had just been an example of Pat being on his 'best behavior'. Now I was suddenly having to face the fact that, despite the fact that there were women on just about every street corner in the Windy City offering to sleep with him that Pat's tastes really did run to Tapioca pudding and no darker or more creative than that.

"I'm sorry," I apologized softly and pressed my mouth gently to a pearlescent scar on his shoulder. "Forget it. I was just playing around," I added, trying to be encouraging, to bring him back to me but he only shrugged me off.

"I need to get some air," he muttered and ducked out from beneath my grip. Not that I stopped him going. As if I could.

"Pat...please," I sighed. All this time I thought that I'd been trying to do the right thing and it had only ended up pushing him away.

"Don't...uh...don't worry or wait up or whatever," Pat said quietly as he pulled his jeans up and then, while still pulling up the zipper with one hand, he was already texting with the other; one of his teammates no doubt.

"You don't have to go anywhere," I sighed, gathering the sheet again. Now that he was dressed I was back to feeling overexposed. I was about to offer to be the one to leave, after all I was the offender, but Pat shook his head, sending his golden curls into his eyes.

"You're ummm fine here," he mumbled and then, grabbing his t-shirt from where it was hanging on the inner handle of the bedroom door, I watched him go.

* * *

><p>It was like trying to pick just one candy when you're standing in front of a long counter full of different sizes and shapes of candy; sour ones, sweet ones, big ones, small ones, all day suckers and ones that would pop and fizz in your mouth and be gone in the blink of an eye. Leaning against the counter, watching the crowd move like a beating heart, trying to pick out just one girl was like only ever wanting gum; boring and totally impossible.<p>

"What about the blonde with the bodacious ta-ta's?" Seabs asked, downing half a pint of something dark and frothy and then wiping the cream coloured froth from his lips with the back of his arm. I shook my head. Big tits were nice to look at but they kind of intimidated me. I didn't really like something in the room that, by comparison, made me look smaller.

"What about that one?" Sharpe tilted his head towards a dark haired Latina beauty who'd been eyeing all of us since we came in. I didn't mind a little dark meat, now and again, but tonight a little spicy heat was not on my menu.

"The problem, as I see it," Tazer drawled, staring into the bottom of his beer which he'd hardly sipped at, "is there's nothing here that's better than what he has at home." The man was speaking the truth and I tipped my beer up, finishing it and letting out a loud belch. I did have willing, hot pussy at home but that didn't mean that I didn't want something from the menu tonight.

"Her," I pointed to a slim, athletic blonde in one of those barely there backless tops that was all side boobs and moved like metallic liquid over her tits. I licked my lips as she flashed her baby blues at me.

"What do you want that for?" Tazer asked, giving her a glance that was only long enough to take in that she was female, probably.

"I just want some...y'know, vanilla," I replied, and pushed off from the bar. She was giving me that shy sexy smile, like she wanted me too but she was worried about leaving her friends. I was a step and a half away when, with one hand, Tazer hauled me back.

"Whaddaya mean, vanilla?" Guys around us, not our guys from the team but other guys stepped back when they saw the look on Tazer's face when he curled my collar in his hand and pulled me up onto my toes. Jesus Christ on a bike, the man was always being the white fucking knight to the rescue even when the chick wasn't in the room.

"Dude you don't know, okay?" I gave him a hard enough shove and I'm guessing Seabs or someone else behind me was concerned enough that the big dope let me down but he didn't let me go. "She's not, like, _normal_," I snarled, rolling my shoulders which did nothing to free me from his grasp.

"Then. What. Are. You. Doing. With. Her?" I could feel the hot wet mist of his spit on my face and tried to turn my face away, except then I began to strangle in my own shirt. Lose, lose.

"I like her, okay?" I growled back at the overgrown ape and this seemed to cool his jets, for the moment, but I wasn't fooled. "But man...I don't even know if mahogany is even normal or whatever."

"You mean monogamy, dumbass," Sharpie smirked and cuffed the back of my head playfully. I shrugged.

"Whatever. I mean, look at everything else in nature, they don't stick with one chick," I pointed out and looked to Seabs for confirmation. He shrugged, shook his head and returned his attention to the hopping scene in front of us.

"Except for, y'know, most bird species, wolves...," Tazer began until I shot him a dark look.

"Figures you'd know shit like that, you spend too much time on your own," I grumbled back at him. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that maybe it's crazy to focus on just one person. Maybe that's, like...unnatural or whatever. Maybe what we're meant to do is share the wealth, y'know?"

"_Offf cooooouuurssse_ the leopard never changes his spots." It didn't surprise me that Jon turned on me but the look of disappointment on Sharpie's face stole my buzz.

"You don't get it. She's fucking with my head, okay? Anyway, it's none of your business," I snapped at both of them.

"Hey, I think what Tazer's trying to remind you is that you like the girl, maybe you just need to cool off. We can grab a slice somewhere...," Seabs offered but I cut him off with a roll of my eyes.

"No, he's on his fucking high horse," I snarled, aiming a dark look towards Captain Know It All.

"Hey man, all you had to say is you couldn't keep her satisfied all by yourself and I'd have come over." Carbomb was trying to lighten the mood and, I think, was kind of bummed that we were dumping all over his buzz. I gave him a smile and a pat on his back.

"I'll try and remember that next time."

"Yeah, like she'll still be around if you don't go home right now." I turned and glared at Jon who stared back at me like he knew something I didn't, kind of like he does most of the time.

"Whatever. You guys do whatever. I'm gonna get me some. You girls go change your tampons." Sharpie looked shocked when I snapped at them. Jon just smiled smugly back at me.

"You go for it champ. Your fucking loss buddy." I flipped him the bird and then turned and started to wade into the heaving mass of bodies.

* * *

><p>I'd had to be there when he'd imploded. I'd known the minute Seabs had texted to tell me that Pat had dragged him and Carbomb out to a club in the middle of the week. The little guy had been steadily heading for the edge of the cliff but it was kind of a surprise that it wasn't me that had pushed him off the cliff.<p>

It was her.

The read headed vixen had driven him out into the night looking for straight up missionary. It was hard for me to understand how a guy that ran around looking for pussy as much as Kaner had since I'd known him could be that afraid of a little kinky fuckery. Of course most of the time either he was gooned to the gills, the girl was or, and this was far more likely, both that he probably hadn't had much of a chance to experience more than the most basic, straightforward automatic action.

That and the poor kid didn't have any imagination to speak of.

I was still shaking my head over it as the heavy mechanical doors of the elevator opened on my floor and I saw her kneeling on the mat in front of the doors to my place, head down. Her hair was pulled back into a simple braid that lay between her shoulder blades like an invitation saying 'lead me'.

It had crossed my mind to go past Kaner's place. After all it was only a block down from mine but from the moment I'd seen her I'd known it would have to be like this. She would have to come to me.

I wondered as I crossed the hallway and reached over to put my key in the lock how she'd gotten in but answers to those and other mundane questions like what kinky play had sent Pat screaming from the house tonight could wait until later. Now I wanted to know what was under the sleek black trench she was wearing, besides the very high heeled boots that I found myself looking at as I pushed the door open.

"Go inside," I told her simply, stepping aside as she stood without my aid, "take off your coat, then wait for me." I wanted to know what was under the jacket but after locking the door I forced myself to go straight down the hallway. I had preparations to make before I was ready for her.

* * *

><p>Floor to ceiling windows let in the Chicago night, lights from other buildings and the streets below lent a kind of glow to the otherwise darkened room. A man's living room complete with dark leather furniture, a wide screen that covered half a wall and a few reminders that, at least inside, Captain Serious was still a boy, an Xbox 360 was plugged in and games were strewn across a glass coffee table.<p>

I took off my jacket and hung it up on a stand and then knelt in front of that glass table and glared at my reflection. Had I given up too easily, given in to Jon's dark charms too readily? I was angry but it wasn't that seething anger that had driven me to his door. It wasn't even the almost certain knowledge that Pat would not be coming home to find me gone.

I wanted this, maybe even needed it.

I had thought I could teach Pat, that he would learn but tonight when he'd run from something as simple as pulling my hair while fucking me from behind I'd finally realized that I was wrong, that it wasn't simply a lack of knowledge, it was a lack of desire. I'd felt desire uncoil within me the moment I'd heard Jon's voice tonight. It felt like a bear just waking from a long winter's nap slowly getting to her feet and shaking off the cobwebs.

"I usually prefer a preset time to a meeting but I will forgive you, this once." I did my best not to smile as I felt the palm of his hand stroke down over the back of my head and then down my braid. "I also prefer to have an agreement in place, rules agreed to beforehand," he continued, slowly winding my braid around his hand before he finally yanked down on it, hard, forcing my head back so I had no choice but look up at him and into his espresso coloured eyes. "Maybe tonight there will be no limits," he said quietly as his dark gaze travelled over my face and down to my cleavage, my breasts cupped in a tight black and purple lace corset. I didn't argue. I felt like I'd been holding myself wound up as tight as a jack in the box waiting to be sprung by the last note of music for too long. "Give me your word," he hissed. I licked my lips.

"I prefer to use the stoplight," I whispered. His crooked grin appeared and he tipped his head to the side as he considered those words.

"I'm not sure I believe in yellow, or do you prefer amber?" he asked, the knuckles of his free hand caressing my cheek.

"Sometimes slower is...nicer," I whispered, my eyes fluttering closed. I could feel his caress on my cheek as if it was between my thighs and I shuddered. He made a noncommittal noise and then I felt his grip on my braid loosen.

"Go to the playroom, pick your poison...to begin with anyway." I got to my feet slowly and turned, head and eyes down as I passed him, walking slowly in the direction from which he'd reappeared. I glanced sideways at the pale flesh I could see out of the corner of my eye. He had taken off his shirt and even in the near dark of his living room I could see how cut he was, how lean and muscular. I flexed my fingers at my sides. There were miles of sculpted flesh to explore, but a sub does not touch her dom without his permission, ever.

There was only one room with a light on in it and I guessed this was where he wanted me to go. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek as I turned into a room dominated by an enormous green ping pong table. I stopped just inside of the room, not sure where to go.

Jon walked by me, folded one side of the table up and pushed it against the wall. Fastened to the underside of the table were two different sets of restraints and I heard the distinctive 'click' of buckles being opened before he turned and beckoned me forward.

"I'm going to take your panties off," he told me, his voice deep and husky in my ear. As much as I wanted to watch him move around me, I kept my gaze forward as he moved around behind me and slid his fingers beneath the edge of the black satin. I felt the warmth of his skin against mine as he slowly dragged my panties down over my ass, down my thighs to my knees right above the top of my boots. "Hmmm, I like it like that," he said as if he were talking to himself and not to me. "Up." I stared at the table in front of me and felt the fabric stretched thin between my legs and frowned. I tried raising one leg knew I looked like a duck out of water. With a hand on either side of my waist he lifted me with ease onto the table and onto my knees. "Hands," he moved along side of the table and led both of my wrists into a leather cuff which he pulled tight. Not tight enough to hurt but tight enough to make it clear that there would be no wiggling free. He ran the back of his hand thoughtfully along my arm and we both watched goosebumps race ahead of his touch. "Green?" he asked with a meaningful glance up at the restraint holding both of my wrists just above my head.

"Green," I agreed.

I lost sight of him as he moved behind me, but I felt his hand trail down over my shoulder and down my back. I tensed, expecting a firm slap on my ass but instead the back of his hand continued to slide down the outside of my thigh and down to my boots.

"I like these," he said quietly, the palm of his hand running over the black leather covering my calf, "you should wear these more often," he added as the palm of his hand slid over my heel and suddenly tugged on the metal spike of the actual heel of the boot, forcing my legs further apart and the elastic of my panties to bite into my flesh.

I heard his self satisfied chuckle right before I heard the metallic snap of handcuffs locking around my ankles. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was enjoying the view, his gaze locked on my ass and my pussy while his hand stroked along the stiff leather of the riding crop I'd picked up from the toy chest just inside the door. I watched his palm stroke along it's dark tanned length and felt my mouth go dry.

As if he was reading my mind with a snap of his wrist he cracked the crop against the edge of the table, just shy of my ankle. The sound alone made all of my muscles clench and I shuddered in anticipation.

"Green?" he repeated, running the soft, flexible 'stinger' end of the crop up the inside of one of my thighs.

"Green," I gasped as he dragged that 'stinger' over my pussy lips. His deeply dark gaze held mine as he brought that stinger down on my ass. I gasped. He smiled. "Green," I repeated and his grin grew by inches every time he brought that crop down on my ass, sending short, sharp shockwaves right through me. Between each stroke he toyed with me, gently stroking the soft end of the crop over my now aching pussy lips but always just short of that spot that could have given me release. Each stroke got a little harder, took me closer to the edge of pain, but each gentle stroke between was just enough to take the edge off.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

He crossed each stroke so that the pain was spread out, so that it was never too intense in the same place. He teased me slowly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge without letting me get all the way there. I was gasping, whimpering when I felt his hands suddenly spreading my ass cheeks apart and his tongue diving deep into my pussy.

I screamed his name and nearly pulled my arms out of their sockets dragging down hard on the restraints around my wrists. I could hear the chains on the cuffs dragging across the table as I shifted, trying to guide him but then his hands locked over my calves and he held me down.

"Yellow," I hissed. I felt his grip ease up and his then his tongue lapped slowly upwards until, finally, I felt his tongue swirl slowly around my pearl. My entire body went slack and I groaned.

I felt his fingers slide inside of me, and felt the full strength of him behind them, throwing my body forward, pulling down hard on the restraints. He fucked me hard with two fingers while rolling my clit between two fingers of his other hand until I was teetering, windmilling on the precipice, my eyes squeezed shut, panting, gasping for air, and then he withdrew.

I whimpered like a kicked puppy. I hung there in my restraints, unable to give myself relief, feeling the blood still pooling in my aching pussy, now cooling, almost painful and then there was the snap of the crop across the backs of my thighs.. My head tilted back and I screamed.

"Yellow?" he asked, his hand sliding between my thighs, slowly, gently massaging my clit until I was panting again.

"Green," I gasped. His hand withdrew and I felt the sting of the crop again, this time right across my ass so I could feel the current of air across my entrance. I moaned out loud, the moan growing longer and deepening as he shoved his thumb inside of me and slid the pad of his middle finger over my clit.

"Still green?" he asked and my only reply was to nod. Yes, more of this. I wanted more of this, needed it.

I heard him chuckle and then felt the sting of the flat of his palm on my ass. I grunted, teeth clenched together and then mewed like a newborn kitten as his hand slid around until his fingers brushed lightly over my clit.

"I could bring you now," he whispered before pressing his lips softly against my shoulder blade as if he was the most tender, the most affectionate of lovers, "but I won't. Do you know why?" I shook my head, gasping as he pressed his fingertips up against my clit, rotating in tight, hard circles that were bringing me so close. "You haven't earned it. You're only here because he is out playing. When the cat's away hmmmm my little mouse?" I shook my head but I didn't breathe life into the lie. It wasn't the only reason that I was here but it was certainly one of the reasons. "I forbid you from touching yourself until I see you again," he breathed, his voice warm and low in my ear. "That means no fingers, no toys, no shower wands..._no_ release until I give it to you, do you understand?" he asked, his free hand now toying with my braid and when he asked the question he pulled down on it, forcing me to turn my head and look at him. I stared at intently at his mouth. I was so close I knew that if he kissed me I would cum, then and there,. Reading it on my face or in my eyes he withdrew again, licking his fingers clean while holding my gaze. "Mmm, I knew you would taste sensational. Does he tell you that? That you taste like poire belle Hélène?" I blinked at him. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that Pat could barely find his way around down there with a roadmap, a compass and a flashlight but suddenly it felt disloyal to even speak of him so I pressed my lips together and kept my opinions to myself. "You'll go back to his place now and when he comes home with his tail between his legs you'll tell him that you're mine now and then...well then we'll see about...this." He slid one, long, finger inside of me and I groaned like a two dollar crack whore.

I couldn't argue. As he undid my restraints and helped me off the table I said nothing. Even as he pulled my panties up while I leaned heavily against him for support I didn't say one word in either complaint or self defence. I had given myself to him. I had no right to speak.

As he helped me into my jacket I felt tears begin to build in my eyes. I had betrayed Pat. I could have gone to almost any of his teammates and it would have hurt him less and the smug, self satisfied look on Jon's face as he did up the last button on the jacket told me he knew it too.

"We're horrible people," I whispered. Jon looked up at me and for the first time his gaze warmed into something that was nearly a human emotion.

"We are who we are," he said softly and then cupped my cheek in his big hand. "He is who he is and if he was enough for you, you wouldn't be here." I blinked, words failing me as the absolute truth of his words sunk in. Then, with an almost apologetic smile, he lowered his lips to brush them tenderly over mine. "I'll call you a cab," he whispered and his hand lingered on my cheek long enough that I thought he might actually ask me to stay and then he turned and reached for his phone which was beside his keys in a wooden bowl near the door and I was left to stare at the mile wide expanse of his back while he arranged for me to be delivered back to his teammates home like an unwanted gift being unceremoniously returned.


	16. Chapter 16

_I know it's been forever but I was en vacation sans computer so I hope that this uber long, extra hot chapter makes up for the wait_

Chapter 16

The image of Pat passed out, fully clothed and face down across the bed came suddenly unbidden to mind. It made me smile despite the fact that particular sight was the last I'd had of him. I'd sat there, in the full dark, and watched as the mickey of Jim Beam slipped from his hand. I still had no idea if he'd come home alone that night or if I'd just been lucky enough to avoid crossing paths with the lucky puck bunny he'd dragged home. I'd half hoped to catch him in the act, if only to make myself feel better.

I'd packed my few, measly belongings that night and headed for the nearest Amtrak station without even leaving a note. It was the coward's way out and even now, as I ran a cloth over one of the tables that had just been vacated by a group of college kids that had reminded me of Pat, I felt that niggling lead weight of guilt in my stomach.

Unfortunately that only reminded me of Pat's darkly brooding teammate and that, in turn, made every muscle in my body tense as a delicious shudder ran through me. I only had to close my eyes to remind myself of every single solitary stroke of that leather crop, of the press of his lips against my flesh, of the promise of more that would never be fulfilled.

"What time are you off?" I probably got asked that question five times a night and most of the time I had enough restraint to smile and say 'no thank you' but tonight I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Never," I snapped, turning to stare down the over-presumptuous meathead, except the blue eyes and dark hair didn't belong to any college quarterback but a cheerleader.

"Erica," I gasped softly.

"You just walked out on my brother so you can give me five fucking minutes of your time to tell me why." It wasn't a request and the fire in her eyes that I'd never really seen in Pat's made that crystal clear.

"Just let me drop this stuff off behind the bar and we can go out back," I mumbled, balancing a tray with the empties and my change box on one hand while I tugged at my apron with the other. There had always been the risk of this, with returning to Buffalo and my old job and knowing how close he was to his family not to mention how they'd welcomed me with open arms.

"Anything wrong?" Dylan asked as I ducked under the bar.

"Nothing I can't handle," I muttered, dumping the money from my apron in a beer stein labelled 'tips' and handing him the box of takings before reaching for a bottle of Patron and tipping it into a tumbler. Dylan raised any eyebrow but knew better than to say anything. I took a sip and the warm burn as the tequila hit the back of my throat made me smile.

"You gonna be good?" he asked. I grinned.

"You think I can't handle that?" I asked, tipping my head in the direction of Pat's sister. She looked impatient but not exactly like the kind of girl that was going to pull me outside by my hair.

"All I know is that you've been looking over your shoulder ever since you came back from Chitown and she might not look like trouble but she's got that look of having trouble followin' on her heels." I glanced over at Erica and knew that he was right.

"I have it comin'," I replied with a shrug and Dylan shook his head.

"You ever gonna tell me about it?" he asked and I shook my head.

"Prob'ly not," I smiled at him, a smile I knew came nowhere near my eyes. Dylan shook his head again and turned to serve some drunk college kid while I eased my way through the crowd.

I knew she would follow me so I didn't look back, not until I pushed my way out through the fire exit and the cold night air slapped me in the face.

"Say it," I encouraged her. I heard her click her tongue against the roof of her mouth and rolled my eyes. I wished that I smoked so I would have something to do with my hands since I had no pockets.

"Why'd you just leave him?" I felt my entire body sagging with relief, thankful she'd got down to the basics without making me answer twenty questions first.

"I don't love him," I answered, kicking a pebble into the dark shadows that hugged the alley. Silence stretched out until I was forced to turn around to see if she was still there. She was and the look of confusion on her face almost made me laugh. "I tried. I know you think the sun rises and sets out of his ass but...I tried and I couldn't make myself feel it. It just wasn't there, I'm sorry." She stared at me for a moment longer and then her shoulders fell and the tough sister vibe disappeared and she was just a girl in a bar talking to another girl.

"He'd never brought anyone by. We thought it was something," she explained. I nodded my head. I'd guessed as much.

"I think he did too and I don't feel good about it, if it helps at all," I apologized as much as I was able to. Erica nodded and I could see her next question forming behind her eyes before she said it out loud. This was the question I was really dreading. I turned and stared at a particularly unreadable tag that had been spray painted on the brick wall across the alley. We'd guessed it said monkey or honkey but we couldn't really tell. It had been there for a while and was fading at the edges.

"Did he...did he cheat on you?" I bit down on my bottom lip to stop from smiling. I knew what my answer would be and that it would make her smile. I could give her this as long as she didn't turn the tables on me.

"No, I'm actually pretty sure that he didn't," I told her and turned to see a grin that was pure relief on her face. She almost looked like she was going to cry. "He's a good guy. He'll make someone happy when he grows up a little bit," I added and gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile before I turned and pulled the door open. I wanted her to leave with this nugget of happiness before she started thinking about anything beyond the information I'd given her.

No such luck.

I'd barely got her back into the bar when she turned and blocked me from heading back behind the barrier.

"Was there...someone else?" she asked, reaching out to grab my arm, her nails digging into the flesh just below my elbow. I looked down at her perfectly painted pink fingernails and then up at her and lied.

"No." Her smile grew and her shoulders slumped in relief.

"I mean, if it was Jon, y'know, I could _totally_ understand. I mean I'd hate you for sure because he's so hot," she added, leaning in towards me as if we were sharing a secret. I nodded but kept my mouth firmly shut and looked down at where she was still anchored to my arm. Giggling she withdrew her claw and looked vaguely apologetic.

"Can I get you something? A mojito or a Manhattan?" I asked, ducking under the bar and reappearing on the safety of the other side, the employees only side.

"Y'know I'd really like a Spanish coffee," she replied and then started to look around at the crowd, maybe looking for a conquest. I certainly hoped that more of her siblings were not suddenly going to arrive.

"Coming up," I told her and turned to gather the necessary ingredients.

* * *

><p>"You going to look her up?"<p>

I rubbed at my eyes and yawned. It had been a short flight but I'd slept anyway. As I looked across the aisle at Jon he looked wide awake as he snapped his lap top shut and downed the last of his bottled water.

"No," I replied a little less firmly than I'd meant to. I'd thought about it. I'd even agreed to meet my sister at the bar she'd worked at but the thought of having Beth break up with me face to face was not something I was really looking forward to facing right now. We were sucking out on the ice, I hadn't scored in eight games and the last thing I needed was yet another person telling me I wasn't good enough.

"You sure about that?" he asked as he slipped his laptop into its bag and reached for his suit jacket.

"What the fuck do you care?" I growled. We hadn't talked about this, about Beth leaving. Not like I had a lot of heart to hearts with the guy, but aside from my admitting she'd gone, I hadn't really discussed Beth with him at all.

"He's just hoping maybe it might help you get your head out of your ass if you got some closure," Seabs patted me on the head like I was a Lab bringing back a duck in one piece. I frowned at him and then scowled at Tazer.

"I don't need...closure errr whatever. I don't care about _her_," I lied, pulling my knit cap down over my still wet hair and heading for the exit. That was a lie. It still hurt that she'd just taken all her shit and left without leaving so much as a fucking note. I'd made the mistake of caring for her and that feeling wouldn't go away, as much as kept hoping that it would.

"Your funeral," Tazer mumbled as he elbowed past me like he had somewhere to be. I stared at his back and shook my head.

"What the fuck is his problem?" I mumbled, mostly to myself but Seabs laughed.

"He just likes to remind us all he's the Captain," he sighed, putting one hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"Yeah well, you guys have fun at your hotel. I'm gonna sleep in my own bed and have some of my mom's chow. Suckers," I grinned at him and he laughed.

"You do that Kaner. Maybe that will help you stop gripping your stick like it's your dick," he smirked. I stuck my tongue out at him and headed down the stairs, fighting another yawn.

* * *

><p>All I wanted right now was my bed and maybe one of my mom's late night grilled cheese sandwiches. What I didn't need was to go chasing some loony chick that obviously doesn't give two shits about me.<p>

I was grateful Dylan had let me slip out early. It was more likely because I'd started giving out the wrong change and spilled beer on some guy with cauliflower ears that had wanted to rip my arms out and beat me with the wet ends but having Pat's sister sitting there at the bar, even if she was seemingly deep in conversation with some guy that was all shoulders and teeth, had me jumpy.

I shook my hair out of the ponytail as I put my key in the door. I was looking forward to a long, hot shower and then the mystery novel waiting for me on my bedside table but the minute I pushed my key in the lock, I knew there was something wrong.

The door gave and I stood, staring at it and into the gloom beyond, my heart racing.

I reached into my purse, unsure of whether I should reach first for my can of mace or for my phone and then the moon peeked out from between the clouds and illuminated the silhouette of the man sitting in my living room.

"Jon." His name left my lips as no more than a whisper but he turned his head toward the sound all the same and his gaze turned my knees molten.

"You left," he said simply as he rose and crossed the floor to pull the door the rest of the way open. "You did not have my permission." I blinked at him. We were playing games, still? Now?

"How did you get in?" I hissed, looking over my shoulder to see if any of my neighbors might be peeking out their doors at this late hour. The corridor remained empty.

"Money can buy nearly anything and your apartment manager was relatively cheap," he replied, raising one eyebrow over those dark chocolate eyes of his. He moved to the side and I stepped into the room. I heard the locks being turned, the chain slid into place. So I was his prisoner now. The idea didn't frighten me even though I thought that it should. "What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked me again, his big hand on the back of my neck, sending a wave of aching need down my spine and spilling my need into my panties.

"I couldn't face him," I admitted. His breath was hot against my cheek and though only his hand touched my skin I could feel him, his nearness, as if his body was already pressed against mine.

"You should have come back to me," he told me firmly, his fingers digging into my skin, not painfully, yet anyway.

"I would have had to face him sometime," I explained, fighting the urge to whimper, to beg him to touch me somewhere, anywhere else.

"If I let you out," he purred into my ear and then, with the slightest urge of his hand, forced me forward. He marched me to the arm of the couch and pushed me forward, face down. My entire body shuddered. "Do you agree that you need to be punished for your transgression?" he asked. I nodded. "Say it," he hissed, anger and maybe, I hoped, desire making his voice thick.

"Yes...sir," I replied, twisting my head to the side so I could look over my shoulder at him. He was slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. I watched as inch by inch of sculpted flesh was revealed and licked my lips. When he pulled the shirt out of his pants and shrugged it over his mile wide shoulders I whimpered. I couldn't help it.

"I brought something with me," he stated simply, flexing his muscles to torment me. "I am not going to ask your permission to use it on you. You've already agreed you deserve to be punished," he added, and then turned and retrieved something from a bag on the floor near the chair he'd been sitting in. It looked like a small stick, at first, and then he unfolded it and revealed a bamboo cane. I sucked in a ragged breath. Caning hurt.

"Puh...puhlleeezze sir," I began, staring at the cane as he whipped it through the air, making it sing.

"Please what?" he asked as he used one hand to shove my skirt up over my ass. He ran the flat of his hand over one nearly bare cheek and then pulled, experimentally at the edge of my lace panties.

"Don't...cut me," I asked, my voice becoming breathy as he ran his fingers up my slit, the lace fabric doing little as a barrier between his skin and mine.

"Then be still, and take your punishment quietly," he ordered, the palm of his hand moving gently over the curve of my ass before he raised his hand and brought it down in a stinging slap that made me cry out mostly in surprise. "I just told you to be quiet. If you can't be quiet, this will not go well you for you," he added, taking a step back and flexing the cane in his hands. I swallowed and turned my face to the cushion. The best chance I had was to stifle my cries in the cushion.

The first strike was to the backs of my thighs. I clenched my teeth together and managed, just, to swallow a yelp. The next strike was right across my ass so that I could feel the force of the air in front of the cane across my entrance. A cry turned quickly into a moan as his hand moved in a slow circle over the site, almost erasing the sting.

"Stay _still_," he warned and then stepped back and brought the cane down again. I could hear it, singing through the air before it bit into my flesh and made me yelp, a sound I barely managed to muffle by shoving my own hand between my teeth and biting down on the thin elastic skin between my thumb and forefinger. Tears burned in my eyes and anger seethed through my veins. I knew he'd left more than a welt that time but as soon as I opened my mouth to protest I felt his fingers exploring my now heated snatch, felt two long thick fingers working their way inside of me and the complaints on the tip of my tongue turned into moans. "Does that make you wet? Mmm wet and warm," he whispered, his voice thick with desire or was it power, maybe both.

"Stop." It was a word I had to force through clenched teeth and a word part of my brain rejected even before I'd said it out loud but I said it anyway and turned to glare at him.

"Stop?" he said, managing to look both amused and bewildered at the same time.

"You heard me," I managed to breathe, pushing myself up and pulling my skirt down at the same time.

"No, I don't think I did. I heard you say that you deserve to be punished and I distinctly heard you say please," he added, one side of his mouth turning up in a self satisfied grin.

"I don't want this," I told him, wiping tears of humiliation out of my eyes. I thought I had, the minute I'd seen him, the moment I'd realized that it was Jonathan Toews in my apartment but now I didn't.

"I think you do," he leered at me like he thought we were still playing some kind of game.

"No," I repeated, pushing him away and walking, somewhat unsteadily but as purposefully as I could towards my kitchen. I turned on the tap and ran the water until it turned cold and then I dunked my head beneath the icy stream, letting it run over the back of my neck.

"You don't tell your dom no for no reason." I heard his voice but I ignored it, right up until the point he grabbed the back of my shirt in his fist and pulled me back. I glared up at him, letting him see that I was not playing games, not anymore.

"You don't break into my apartment. If you want to see me, you ask my permission and I told you not to cut me," I turned and raised the back of my skirt, revealing the livid red welts that I already knew would be there, "but you did. So _no_, I _don't_ want to do this." I ran my hand through my wet hair and looked at the floor. I didn't trust all of my anger to be in my eyes if I looked up at him. Not that he gave me a choice.

I felt his fingers press my chin upwards and as much as I tried not to, I found myself looking into his chocolate brown eyes. Where I expected livid rage I still found humour and yes, still just a hint of confusion.

"Let's make a couple of things crystal fucking clear. I did _not_ cut you. If I wanted to cut you, you would be bleeding and I did _not_ break into your apartment, your Super let me in," he said forcefully and then, when I tried to turn my face away his entire hand cupped my chin in a painful, vice like grip so that I could feel each and every one of his fingertips digging into my jaw. "You want me to fuck you. Deny it." I stared at him and pressed my lips closed. I _did_ want to fuck him but not like this. His lips turned up at the corners and he suddenly looked like a boy, a boy used to getting his way but pleased by it nonetheless. "That's what I thought." His other hand slipped up under my skirt and even though I pressed my thighs together, I whimpered as he cupped my mound. "You want to be fucked, hard and often and you want to be made to scream and we both know that he can't do that for you," he began. I growled at him and tried to twist my face enough that I could bite one of his fingers. His lightening reflexes were too fast for me. "Now, now little cat," he teased, digging his fingers even deeper into my jaw until I winced.

"You've already won, okay?" I hissed at him like the cat he accused me of being. "I gave in, I came to you. You beat him, isn't that enough for you?" His smile was slow and deliberately predatory and I backed up against the counter as if I had somewhere to go.

"No," he said simply and slid one finger between the lace edging of my panties and my skin. I pressed my thighs closer together. His finger found the slick wetness of the need I didn't want to be feeling and his smile grew until I could see the white pearls of his teeth in the dark.

"You think you're _sooo_ fucking special," I snarled at him and imagined that my pussy had teeth and that I could bite the finger that was probing my innermost centre.

"I think you want me," he purred, looking very certain that he was going to win this particular argument and that all of my dissemination was just that and all it was going to require was time and patience before he'd prove his point.

"You're the one waiting in my apartment like some kind of deranged stalker," I pointed out. He tilted his head to one side and regarded me like I was nothing more than an amusing and pretty child.

"You could just admit that you're gagging for it and we could stop fucking around here," he growled and then bent down to cover my mouth with his. He kissed me hard, like he was trying to kiss through me and force my mouth open with pure unadulterated force. I pressed my hands flat against his chest and pushed but it was about as successful as trying to force my hands through a six inch concrete wall. He didn't move and he didn't stop kissing me.

I curled my hands into fists and battered his chest like a drum but besides the sound of flesh striking flesh, my futile attempts at violence did nothing to slow him down. And then he pressed his knee in between my thighs and used it like a crow bar, prying my legs apart until he could put his while hand in my snatch and I was lost all at once. With his fingers on my clit I gasped, opening my mouth to the assault of his tongue and almost all of the fight left me as his tongue stroked mine in the same beat as his fingers played over my clit.

I still scratched as his upper arms just like a cat not wanting to be picked up does as he set me on the counter and stepped between my thighs. I bit his bottom lip until I had the coppery taste of his blood in my mouth but that hardly deterred him, it only caused him to move the attentions of his lips and mouth to areas below my chin. This, in turn, sent shivers down my spine so much so that I didn't realize that, at first, that he had let go of me, or at least of my face until I heard the sound of one of my large knives being pulled from the block they were held in.

I tried to scramble sideways, crablike, but his one hand on my thigh prevented this and so I could only look down, eyes wide, terrified and admittedly fascinated as he aimed that long gleaming blade at my crotch. Did I think he was going to hurt me? For some reason my brain told me no but a squeak escaped my lips nonetheless as he slid the cold steel between my oh-so-sensitive skin and the lace of my panties.

One flick of his wrist and they snapped apart.

I stared down as he completed their removal by cutting the waistband as well and then tossing the remnants of my underwear and the knife in the sink. Then I stared at him and he at me.

That I was inescapably turned on by what he had done was patently evident. Not only in the shortness of my breath and my wide eyes, but as his fingers returned to bury themselves deep in my pussy, he could undoubtedly feel exactly how much I had appreciated that moment of danger and his lips turned up at the corners right before he tangled his free hand in my hair, tugging my head back before he claimed my mouth with his.

* * *

><p>She kissed me back this time. There was little point in continuing to pretend that she didn't want this as much as I did but as I reached for that spot inside of her that would make her shudder it was still preferable to have her surrender. As she moaned into my mouth like a good little porn star and as I felt the muscles inside of her grasping at my fingers right before she let go and came hard, I knew I was breaking her like a cowboy does a wild horse.<p>

No all I had to do was ride her.

I looked over at the small table in the kitchen and dismissed it. It didn't look sturdy enough to take both our weights and as much as I couldn't wait to be buried balls deep in her, I was still tired enough to want to have a soft mattress and sheets under me as I did.

"Bedroom," I croaked as we both came up for air. She didn't dissemble, merely pointed in the direction of the darkened hallway and leaned heavily against me. I carried her down the hallway, despite the protests of my sore shoulder, and kicked open the door at the end. I stared at the bed I knew he had bought her and visions of him fucking her on it danced through my head like cheap, amateur porn. I dismissed those thoughts and tossed her down onto it, letting different visions, ones that had been forming in my head all day, fill my imagination instead.

She watched, through lidded eyes, as I undressed in front of her. That she appreciated the view was evident in the way she licked her lips as I carefully folded my dress shirt and laid it on a chair in the corner. But the best reaction was the small, cat like mew as I stepped out of my pants and took my briefs with them.

My dick, now free, bounced before her and she stared at with apprehension. I'd had girls, no matter how much they'd wanted to sleep with me say no, get up and leave the moment the saw it but Beth licked her lips and scooted closer to the end of the bed. I groaned when she wrapped both hands around it. I moaned when she slid the tip of it between her lips and over her tongue.

I didn't expect her to take all of me. No woman ever had. But she gobbled it down like she'd been starving and this was the first loaf of bread she'd seen in weeks. As she sucked and licked it I dug my fingers into her hair and reminded myself to remain still. I wanted to fuck her mouth, mostly because her mouth haunted my dreams, but despite my reputation I didn't want to hurt her. All I wanted was to claim her, as mine, pin her to the bed and make her scream my name.

"Enough," I whispered gruffly, pulling my hips back and my dick free from her warm, wet mouth. She looked up at me with eyes full of lust and desire and I allowed myself a moment to appreciate the victory. "Strip," I ordered and watched as she struggled out of the t-shirt and band her skirt had made of itself around her hips. "You won't see him again," I told her and meant it. She tossed her clothes in a ball on the floor and then turned to me with an unreadable expression.

"So after you've fucked me, that's it, we're done?" I stared at her and then shook my head.

"You think I'd come here, in the middle of the night when I'm supposed to be in my hotel room, risking missing curfew just to _fuck_ you?" I grabbed her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the mattress. "I could have gone to your little bar and picked up half a dozen girls to fuck tonight but I'm _here_." I made the mistake of letting go of one of her ankles and she kicked me, drove her heel right into the flesh above my knee, hard.

"If you think that was supposed to be flattering you're an asshole!" she hissed at me and then grabbed the sheet and pulled it around her as best as she could, hiding her assets from my greedy eyes. It would have been simple to rip the sheets, tearing them away from her body and letting her know, at the same time, that she did not have the upper hand here but I refrained.

"Let me rephrase," I began instead, kneeling on the edge of the mattress and pulling the sheet, with her on it, slowly towards me. "I am here to do what I've wanted to fucking do since I first saw you. I'm here to claim you, to mark you, to fuck you unconscious so that there is no doubt in anyone's mind, especially yours and yes, Pat's too, that you are _mine_. So, are we both _crystal fucking_ clear on what's happening here?" She stared up at me, half shocked, I think, and half afraid that I'm kidding...or maybe that I'm not.

"Un...unconscious?" she stammered.

"Have a problem with that?" She shook her head slowly and continued to stare, wide eyed at me as I knelt between her legs and pushed her thighs wide apart. "Good," I smiled down at her as I eased my fingers inside of her, testing to feel if I needed to begin four-play over again.

The sound that came from her throat made my dick throb. She whimpered and her eyes rolled back in her head. I pressed my thumb against her clit and her entire body shuddered. If she was this sensitive from the lightest touch, I was going to thoroughly enjoy fucking her.

Because we were still near the edge of the bed I could reach for the condoms I'd dropped on her nightstand and I plucked one foil square and held it out towards her. She dutifully and without having to be asked, opened her sweet mouth and dug her teeth into the foil wrapper. I pulled and she tugged and together we ripped it open and then, while she watched, I rolled it over the tip of my dick and then slowly downwards.

"Are you ready?" I asked, aiming the head of my dick at her honey hole. She nodded, just once and then together we watched as I screwed my cock slowly inside of her. It was a tight fit and there was a point that I thought that I'd reached the end of her, but then she raised her hips and I slid all the way in. We both groaned and held very still, revelling in the feeling of being swallowed hole while at the same time breathing through that first urge just press her knees back to her ears and just fuck her senseless.

That would be over too soon and I had no intention of letting her sleep anytime before the first rays of the sun peeked in between her curtains.

When I moved again I felt her heels digging into the backs of my thighs. I reciprocated by reaching for her arms and pinning them over her head while I brought my hips up and back. Her gaze went steely but as I deliberately took even longer to screw myself back into her those eyes lost their ice and her expression dissolved as she closed her eyes, rolled her head to the side and cursed quietly.

"What was that baby? Slower?" I chuckled to myself at my wit. She turned and I saw that steel coming leaking into her eyes but as I bent and ran the tip of my tongue around one pink peak of her nipple those eyes rolled back again and she let out a long hiss of a sigh. "Hmm, that's what I thought," I added softly, moving my lips over the other nipple and sucked it into my mouth while I rolled my hips and slid almost all of the way out of her tight little pussy before slowly, sliding back in and this time it was me letting out the long stream of half whispered curses. "Damn it baby you're fucking tight," I whispered against the crisp line of her jaw, grazing it with my teeth. She arched her neck and rolled her face away from my searching gaze.

I tugged at the big silver hoop in her ear and then licked my way down the arch of her neck before digging my teeth in and sucking her neck, hard. She tasted of booze and cigarettes and something vaguely floral. She gasped, making a sweet, hot noise and pressed her hips up to meet mine on my next down thrust.

Letting go of her arms I grabbed a tit in each hand and feasted on their ripe, roundness. I sucked and bit her tiny pink nipples and ran my tongue over the tiny bumps in the darker areolas. I bit and sucked at the moon pale skin of each breast, tasting the musk of her sweat as well as the sweet, sharp note of her perfume. I pressed her breasts together and suckled on each nipple until she moaned and her body tightened down around my cock. I closed my eyes and breathed through the overwhelming urge to empty my balls into her hot, tight, wet little honey hole.

Abandoning her sweet, high round tits I grabbed her hips and pulled them off the bed, affording me a deeper, longer thrust that had her panting each time I bottomed out inside of her. She captured her own tits in her hands and tweaked the nipples as I rammed my cock home over and over, again and again as she gasped and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

"That's it baby, cum for me. I want you to cream all over my cock," I urged her to wrap her legs around my waist, getting her to do some of the work but also freeing up my hands to scoop her ass into my hands as I continued to slam into her, stuffing my cock balls deep into her with each long, hard thrust. She tipped her head back and I could see, even in the moonlit darkness, a fine sheen of sweet break out on her forehead, between her breasts as she worked to meet me somewhere in the middle, her body pushing against mine, sucking me down as she twisted and tugged at those pink little buds.

"Holy jeeeezuuuzz fuck me!" she groaned and I threw my hips forward, grinding them into her as I fought to shove every last, solid inch of my cock deep in her hot little pussy.

"Yeah baby, I want you to fucking scream my name when you cum." She opened one eye and stared at me, one corner of her full mouth turning up in a smile that told me I'd have to do better if I thought that's what I'd earned. Raising a single eyebrow and mirroring that smirk, I pulled out of her completely and with little effort, turned her over onto her stomach and shoved her face down in the now tangled blankets.

She made a sound that was muffled by the quilt as I pushed one hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her in place while, using my other hand, I pulled her hips up off the bed just enough to allow me to see my goal. Her honey pot was gleaming, shining brightly in the near dark, smeared with her juices and swollen with need. I aimed the head of my dick at that dark crease and gently, slowly, screwed my way inside of her.

"Holy fucking hell!" If I'd thought she was tight before I nearly went blind with the overwhelming sensation of entering her from behind. She was doubly tight and shallow and I couldn't get all of my cock inside of her, at least not on the first try. She moaned like a porn star and as I watched, her hands scrambled for purchase in the very rumpled sheets as she pressed her sweet, round ass back against me. "Yeah, you like that baby?" I looked down at my fingers spread over the pale hills of her ass cheeks and smiled to myself.

Her back bowed, her head tossed back and she squealed like a pig when I spanked her hard enough to see my hand print on her ass. Her cunt damn near squeezed the life out of me too. I gasped, my eyes closed and I blew out a long, slow breath and then I did it again. Her body bucked against me and I watched rather than felt a shiver run right down her spine before her pussy muscles squeezed tight around my dick.

"Ohhhh goddddd," she moaned and pressed her ass back against me, practically begging for more. I spread my fingers out over the imprint of my hand and gently smoothed it away and then, with one hand sliding down around and over her stomach, I gave her ass a more gentle slap. This time though, with my fingers on her clit, she didn't buck but instead went very, very still. I repeated the motion and this time she rocked her head from side to side as her body sucked at mine, trying to milk me dry.

"I'm going to fuck you now," I told her, still rolling her clit between my fingers while I held onto one hip and pulled my own hips back. She tossed her hair to the side and looked back at me, her eyes hooded, her mouth ajar. I took that as encouragement and rocked my hips forward, hard, shoving my dick back into her tight, wet folds. She moaned and then pressed her ass back against me so that I did it again.

She matched every single, hard, deep thrust until both of us were groaning and moaning and I could feel my balls pulling up tight beneath my dick. She was close, I knew, just from the way I had to work at screwing my way into her each and every time but she wasn't ready to give in. She had will power, I had to give her that but I knew one, sure way of overcoming her resolve.

I grabbed her hips and slowly leaned backwards, lying back on the mattress and taking her with me until she was balancing on her toes with that sweet ass pressed down against my groin. I ran my hands up her waist and cupped her tits, one in each hand.

"Fuck me baby," I encouraged her and was rewarded with being able to watch her sweet ass rise up, leaving my cock gleaming, covered in her juices. She slid slowly back down over me, her pussy lips parting. I pressed her ass cheeks wide so I could watch. My cock had begun to ache.

She moaned and repeated the motion, rising and falling over my cock, over me, again and again until she was bouncing up and down like a she was a pogo stick. My breathing was beginning to get ragged and I felt my pulse race but I refused to come before her.

"Turn and face me," I asked and she did, without having to be asked twice. I watched her fist form around my dick and then watched and licked my lips while she lowered her pussy lips down over my cock until it had disappeared up inside of her. "Oh fuck baby, that's hot," I told her as I reached up to cup those ripe tits of hers', one in each hand. She sort of leaned into me and began to move, by inches, up and down over me.

I ran the pads of my thumbs over each hard little pebble of her nipple, flicking them, making her gasp out loud. She gazed down at me, her bottom lip sucked into her mouth as the fleshy lips of her pussy sucked in my cock. I raised my hips off the bed and shoved myself as deep up inside of her as I could. She smiled, a satisfied sort of smile and then reached back and cupped my balls.

My eyes closed and I groaned, loud and long. Most women pay no attention to the very sensitive and in need of love to scrotum. Beth rolled my balls in her hand and then, gently tugged. I groaned again and this time she slid her hand a little farther back, her body partly twisting away from me. I tugged on her nipples, she slid her finger near my asshole.

I opened my mouth to say no, but then she ran just ht pad of her finger over my chocolate starfish and my entire body went rigid and I nearly came.

"Holy fuuuuuck!" I exclaimed and she grinned, proudly down at me. Biting down on her bottom lip and batting her eyelashes coquettishly at me, she reached up and instead of diddling around near my ass again, she lifted those curls of hers off her shoulders and started to bob up and down on my pole faster.

It was my turn to be sure I was going to cum and I didn't want to. Not yet. So, instead, I sat up, pushed her firmly but gently backwards and then scrambled to get between her thighs, pull them wide and shove myself into her all at the same time.

She cried out, her head tilting back and as I rocked my hips back and then forward again, she began to pant, heavily.

"My clit," she whispered, holidng her hand out towards me. She drew me it up towards her mouth, sucked my index finger between her red lips and then guided my fingers down to her clit. I rubbed that joy button hard and fast and as she bobbed up and down on me, as she alternately panted and called my name.

Raising my hips off the mattress I shoved myself up into her and begged her to cum. I wanted to watch, wanted to see it from here. She still seemed to be fighting it, even as she cupped her tits together and offered them down to me. I managed to get up on my elbows and then struggled to grab her ass with both hands. That's when I grabbed one tit in my mouth, swallowing as much of it was possible as I shoved my cock up deep in her pussy.

"Now," she gasped and tilted her head back so that her hair ran down to the small of her back.

I was close but I was determined she would go first and as I suckled on one tit she did, her entire body shuddering with the strength of it. Her pussy sucked at me like a mouth and I came, hard, right behind her. I shoved myself deep in her pussy and held on for dear life while I shot load, after load, deep into her pussy and that condom and prayed that it would hold


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

That he was still in my bed when the sun found its way through the curtains and coloured him gold down to where the sheet hugged his hips surprised me. My gaze roamed lazily over the wide expanse of his back and down to where his muscular torso nipped in at the waist in that perfect 'v' that professional swimmers covet for aerodynamics. I toyed with the idea of tugging the sheets aside so I could get an even better look at his thickly muscled ass over which the sheet was pulled taught so that I the hills and valleys of that particular area of his anatomy was prominently displayed.

Big hands, big feet, big ass, big...

All of the muscles in my body quivered at the memory of the things he had done and made me do. Even the slight hiss that escaped my lips as I sat up and the sheets slid over the welts on the back of my thighs was not enough to erase the warm liquid honey feeling of waking up next to the man who had played my body like it was a Stradivarius.

That he was still there, softly snoring, when by his own admittance he should have been at the hotel with the rest of his teammates made my heart skip a beat but I didn't dare hope that it was truly evidence that what was happening here was more than just sex. I knew that would be too simple. He was far too complicated for me to make an assumption that clear-cut about and besides that, there was that other complication to consider. Pat.

Whatever my feelings for either man, they were first and foremost teammates and even from what little I knew of the man with his fist curled beneath the pillow on which he was currently drooling, that relationship would be first and foremost in his mind; hockey first and women a distant fourth, maybe even fifth? Would Pat have put me so far down on his list of priorities? I doubted it but then I also knew that didn't matter.

What I'd felt for Patrick paled in comparison to the mixed bag of emotions I felt now in the wake of last night. Even as confused and yes, excited as I was in the afterglow of the best sex of my entire life, I knew that if this was all there was, all there might ever be, I would take it even thoughI didn't think I would have to. I was almost sure that he'd meant at least some of the things he'd uttered under the spell of desire.

I'd only know when he woke up and maybe not even then which was probably why I was letting him sleep instead of waking him because when it came right down to it, I was a coward.

Of course I knew I couldn't let him sleep all day and as his pants began to vibrate across my bedroom floor for the second time I wondered if I'd already let him sleep too long. I knew all about the Hawks' early morning skates on game days even if I didn't know if their road schedule was different.

He groaned and the arm that had been curled under the pillow stretched out towards the sound of his phone as it vibrated in the pocket of his pants. I slid from beneath the sheets, picked his pants up off of the floor, dug his phone free and put it in his outstretched hand. He opened one dark chocolate eye and regarded me with what looked like amusement and then put his phone to his ear.

"Mmm?" That one dark eye tracked my movement across the room as I pulled a t-shirt from a folded pile in one drawer and pulled it over my head. I shuddered. The slip of cotton over my skin felt like he was touching me. "What time is it?" I glanced towards the old fashioned Winnie the Pooh alarm clock on my bedside table but then realized that he hadn't directed the question to me. "Ten minutes," he yawned, stretched and swung into a sitting position. The sheets remained tugged across his thighs but did nothing to camouflage his morning wood. I stared at it. He smirked. "Make that twenty." He tossed the phone down onto the bed as his gaze heated my skin. I stood there like a doe caught in the light of an eighteen wheeler's high beams, unable to move and unable to break the tractor beam of his gaze. "You're wearing too many clothes," he said and then patted the mattress. I glanced at the narrow expanse of the bed beside him and then back at his eyes. Was it my imagination or were they darker than they had been a minute ago?

"You have to go." I motioned towards his phone.

"_After_," he said, sliding a pair of handcuffs out from under the sheets and held them up, swinging them from his index finger. I bit back a moan. He'd restrained me with those sometime in the middle of the night. I'd woken up to find myself handcuffed to the headboard with his tongue deep in my twat. I shuddered at that the memory.

"Now?" I squeaked. He snapped open one cuff and raised an eyebrow. I held my arm out and he snapped the cuff around it and then used his leverage to pull me towards him until I had one knee on the edge of the mattress.

"_Now_," he repeated, reaching for my other hand and then turned to look at the headboard. Obediently I crawled up the bed and let him lock my other wrist on the other side of one of the posts of my cheap, brass headboard. I felt the bed dip as he positioned himself behind me and then I heard the distinct rip of a condom package.

Looking over my shoulder I got to watch the show, his sliding the condom down his long, thick hard dick one handed while, at the same time he slid the palm of his hand very slowly over the curve of my ass until I felt him slide two fingers inside of me and that groan I'd been trying to bite back finally slid off of my tongue.

"I'm going to fuck you hard and fast and you're going to scream my name and then we're going to the rink," he told me in a matter of fact tone that left no room for dispute.

"Uh-huh," I muttered, wrapped my hands around the brass posts and clenched my teeth as he screwed himself slowly into me until I thought I could feel the tip of him behind my belly button. I sucked a breath in sharply between my teeth, the still tender and sensitive areas objecting to the lack of lubrication by reminding me how rough he'd already been with me and how many times. I ignored the twinges and deep ache that filled me as he slowly drew his hips back and then drove his dick back into me as hard and as fast as he'd promised, driving a breath from my lungs with a nearly silent 'whoosh'.

"I want him to see it on your face when we get to the rink. I want him to know you've been fucked and that you enjoyed it." He'd know, I thought as I tightened my grip on the brass bars as Jonathan slammed his cock deep inside me again, because I wouldn't be able to walk _or_ sit down.

* * *

><p>"Where's el cap-eee-tan?" I asked as I looked down the aisle of the bus and didn't see his disapproving, scornful face staring back at me.<p>

"All I know is he didn't sleep in his own bed last night," Seabs replied without looking up from his PSP.

"Of course he didn't, we're not at home," I slid into the seat beside the mangy defenseman and peered down at the game. It was some kind of racing game. I prefer the shooting ones, the more blood the better.

"I meant our hotel room moron," he elbowed me in the ribs. I frowned at him.

"Like as in..Tazer's.a dirty stop out? As in, he missed curfew...with a _girl_?" I rubbed my hands together in anticipatory glee, right up until the point that Sharpie leaned across the aisle and punched me in the shoulder, hard enough to make me wince.

"Like you didn't," he snorted and then snapped open the newspaper again. He was reading the business section. I can see him sitting behind some big desk in some skyscraper in the city one day, doing something important. Maybe he could take over Shanny's job and not be such a dick.

"Hey man I had my mom's homemade pierogis and kielbasa," I told them as I sat back and put both hands over my still slightly swollen stomach. I'd eaten way past the point of being full but I only get so many chances during the season to get homemade food. Indigestion aside, it was totally worth it.

"So you didn't go looking for that hot little red head?" Seabs asked without looking up from his game.

"Nah," I answered going for cool and unaffected. "Whatever. But I bet that bitch knows what she's missing by now," I added with a cocky kind of grin. I'd sort of been wondering if she'd come to the game tonight. I'd promised myself I wouldn't look for her but I wouldn't be surprised if she was waiting out by the bus tonight.

The guys let it drop, which I was grateful for. I didn't like to think about her too much. I'd had enough of the twenty questions from my mother who I'm pretty sure is more disappointed about our break up than I am. Some guys my age get the whole 'get a job, get a career' speech. I get the 'why can't you commit to one nice girl' speech.

"Ugh, how can anyone live in this city?" Seabs asked finally looking up from his game to stare out at the cold grey day. The snow on the ground was gray, the streets were grey, the buildings were grey and so was the sky.

"Because we know how to paaar-tay," I replied, getting up and heading for the front of the bus before it even rolled to a stop. Without Tazer here I could be the first off the bus. This being my hometown I expected to have to deal with the press more here and I didn't want to be the last guy out on the ice.

I had one foot off the bus and into the slush that covered the sidewalk when a taxi pulled up in front of the bus. I recognized Tazer from his arrogant profile but as soon as he got out of the taxi it was pretty apparent he wasn't alone. As he turned to give a hand up to the person still inside he turned and looked directly at me. The expression on his face morphed from his everyday boy next door stupid grin to a smirk that made my hands clench into fists and then quickly to concern as he looked back at the woman he was helping out of the back of the car.

"Fuck my life." She looked right at me as her heels hit the sidewalk and her eyes were big and round. For just a second, I thought she looked apologetic and then she quickly looked down at her shoes as he closed the door behind her and leaned in to pay the cabbie.

She was wearing something businesslike, conservative. Not one of the outfits I preferred. It was all dark, subdued colours and she had her hair pulled back instead of loose around her shoulders and I decided I didn't like it that way. I didn't like the way she looked, it was way too fucking clear she wasn't here to see me.

"Duuude," Seabs stood at my shoulder and ran his big mitt through his hair and winced like he'd just watched me go feet first into the boards at high speed. It was a pretty accurate sensation as I felt the air being shoved out of my lungs. What in the fucking hell was _she_ doing with _him_?

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here," Carbomb laid his oversize bear paw on my shoulder and I felt his fingers dig in like he thought I needed holding down, "and say he didn't just go and get her so's you two's can have some closure." That thought hadn't occurred to me. No, he'd fucked her and he wanted me to know it. The bright flame in her cheeks told me what his face hadn't, _yet_.

He didn't say anything, not to us, but bent close and said something near her ear that didn't do a damn thing to change the expression on her face. She looked ashamed. It made me want to break a stick over his stupid head. Then he took her hand and tugged her inside like he was the engine and she was the fucking caboose.

I stared after them, swearing a blue streak mostly under my breath.

* * *

><p>I'd hoped to make it into the arena before I'd had to face Pat. Kaner was actually the least of my concerns. He'd be angry but as soon as the next tight assed puck fuck batted her eyelashes at him he'd forget about Beth. The rest of the guys on the other hand...<p>

"I want you to wear this." She was sporting the pained and apprehensive expression I'd expected. I wanted to erase the fear from her eyes. I turned and took the long thin velvet box out of my jacket pocket and held it out towards her. She looked down at the box as if she expected it to grow fangs and bite so, impatiently, I lifted the lid.

She looked inside and then up at me. It wasn't diamonds but I didn't think the girl from the other side of the tracks would expect that kind of extravagance this soon.

Because she didn't I took the necklace out and set the box aside. She stared at the gold chain and the miniature pair of handcuffs pendant and then back up at me, again.

"Turn around." She did and swept her fiery hair aside and I slipped the necklace around her neck, fastened the clasp and then pressed a gentle kiss against the nape of her neck. "You're mine now," I reminded her quietly. "Whatever anyone says, whatever happens, you are _mine_." I felt her shiver as I brushed my knuckles down the back of her neck.

"Yesss," she whispered and I couldn't help but smile.

"Good," I told her, pleased, just as I heard the door to the arena swing shut behind us. I waited, counting to three in my head before I turned to face the judgement of my teammates but only Pat was there. I swore under my breath. He looked like he was going to fucking cry.

"Can I...can I talk to Beth...alone?" he stuttered, his gaze focussed on her. I considered telling him no, that anything he had to say to her he could say in front of me but with her fingers playing over the golden handcuffs she stepped around me, putting me behind her.

"It's okay," she said, to me I thought but maybe to him too.

"Are you sure?" I asked, brushing my lips over her temple, possessively placing my hands on her shoulders.

"Mmmhmm," she replied, reaching up to touch her fingers to mine and just like that I was dismissed. Not that I was going far.

I told myself that I wasn't worried about him, about anything he might say or do because I wasn't worried about Beth changing her mind. I realized, as I walked down the cold concrete corridor towards the dressing rooms, I just didn't want to actually give him the chance to even try.

"So you broke the cardinal rule?" Seabs asked the minute, the _second_, I walked into the visitor's dressing room. I shrugged my jacket off and carefully hung it up. Rules. Usually I was the enforcer of them. Sometimes I wasn't. When I wasn't I didn't give two shits about the rules. "Do you actually care about her or did you just do it for shits and giggles?"

"He never does stuff like that," Bicks spoke up for me. I glanced over at him and smiled. "Not for no reason, right?" he added, sounding less certain.

"Right," I replied pulling my tie over my head and rolling it carefully around my hand.

"Okay so it's not just because you can," Carbomb waded in, levelling his beady little eyes at me, "it's still not fair to the guy." I smiled at my toothless teammate and shrugged.

"Life's not fair," I shrugged and then toed off my shoes.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry." There was very little else to say and those two words hardly covered all the bases but it was just about all I had. Pat looked at the ground. He looked young and hurt and mad all at the same time.<p>

"Why'd it have to be him?" he asked petulantly after a moment of silence. I took a deep breath. This was the question I'd anticipated. It wasn't that I'd fucked someone else. There was no doubt in my mind he'd had other women in his bed since I'd left. What was bothering Pat wasn't that I'd fucked someone else. It was that I'd fucked Jon.

"_He_ pursued me," I responded truthfully. Pat made a contemptuous sound deep in his throat and I knew that he wasn't surprised. As competitive as he was, Jon was that and then some. "I wanted him to," I added because I deserved to share the blame. I wasn't going to stand there and tell him about all of the times I hadn't given in. That would be petty and besides, I knew it didn't matter now.

"So...are you like...into him or what?" I could see what it cost him to ask that and that and I was almost glad that I didn't have a ready answer for it. I ran my fingers over the miniature chain holding the two sides of the tiny handcuffs together around my neck.

"Maybe," I replied with a shrug. It was better than admitting that my panties were soaked through every time the Captain of the Hawks looked at me and that I'd let him do whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted to me. Pat nodded again and then sighed, his shoulders rising and falling before he looked up at me through his long, pale lashes. His blue eyes held anger but they were also filled with the sort of ache that can only be left behind by a severe wound.

"So...you're gonna come back to Chi-town with him?" he asked me. I'd been told that I'd be sent for. That Jon would find another apartment for me, close to his, somewhere 'convenient'. He hadn't asked me but then I was certain that I'd made it clear that I wanted to be with him. It wasn't ideal but I would take it, for now, so I nodded. "Fuck," Pat grimaced and kicked at an imaginary stone with the toe of his shoe.

"I'm sorry. I know that will be...awkward," I offered, reaching out to touch his upper arm. He flinched and withdrew. I stepped back.

"Ya think?' he looked up at me again with his blue eyes; eyes that were now more full of anger and disappointment than they were tears. "Fuck," he repeated and jammed his fists into his jacket pockets.

"I'm sorry," I repeated again because I didn't know what else to say. Was there a greeting card that you could send someone when you'd just slept with their best friend and worst enemy? Was there a song I could download onto his iPod that would explain all of this better than I could?

"You know it's not fair right?" I tried not to smile but the way he'd screwed up his face made me want to pinch his cheeks so badly I nearly couldn't resist. It was more like he was being told he was being grounded and would have no use of the family car for a month than that his girlfriend had fucked someone else.

"I know." I didn't try to fight with him about it because it was true. This wasn't fair. Not even to me and I was the one walking around with that kind of ache that made you want to curl up under the covers with a stupid grin on your face. I did want to tell him that I'd tried to make it work, but then I knew that he had as well and it was too late for that to make a difference. The milk was spilled. All that was left was cleaning up the mess.

"So like...am I supposed to wish you well or somethin'?" he grumbled. I bit down on my bottom lip.

"You don't have to but I hope _you'll_ be okay. Not today but...soon," I told him honestly. He made a face that said he clearly thought I was spilling a bunch of bull to pacify him. "You will make some girl really happy Pat," I promised him. He looked up at me and all of the hurt I'd caused filled his sky blue eyes. "You just need a little more relationship practice I think," I added softly. It wasn't meant as a barb; more like constructive criticism but the moment I'd said it I wished I could withdraw it.

"Practice? Fuck you, I get fucking lots of practice. I bet I fuck a girl before the game tonight." I drew in a sharp breath and I refused to laugh. His was hurt. I had no business poking pins in his ego. I knew better than probably anyone in this building just how fragile Pat's ego actually was.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I hope you do. I hope you fuck a lot of girls." It was sort of the same thing. Maybe one of those girls would speak up, would help him learn how to find the g-spot, to do more than grunt and sweat over her, that it wasn't all about the effort and that he needed to use some of the finesse he displayed out on the ice in the bedroom. Maybe someone would want to do that for him. It just wasn't me.

"Yeah, you're not that hot. In fact I don't know what I saw in you." I smiled and let him say it. Whatever helped him I'd happily accept just like I took the punishments Jon doled out like candy.

"Fuckin' take that back shrimp." Jon appeared half way down the hallway. Neither of us had heard him and the whites in Pat's eyes made it clear that, had he known his bigger, more heavily muscled teammate had been there he'd never have said it out loud.

"Fuck you," he muttered but shrunk in on himself as if his body didn't agree with words coming out of his mouth and I could see why. Jon was big in every way but in skates and full gear...he was like Godzilla.

"It's okay." I looked at Jon and hoped he could see that it was only sticks and stones. If I wanted whips and chains that would be up to him. His dark gaze searched mine and then he visibly relaxed.

"Quit yer bitchin' and get dressed," he growled at Kane. Pat looked back at me one more time and there was a certain longing in his eyes that made me want, at the very least, to give him a hug. I didn't. I stood there and smiled at him in what I hoped wasn't a motherly sort of way before he turned and trudged down the corridor, his shoulders up around his ears. I watched him glance sidelong at Jon who glared down at him as he passed. Alpha males...,or at least one alpha and one junkyard dog who wanted, very badly, to be an alpha. Maybe one day.

"Okay?" Jon asked when he was certain we were, once again, alone. He reached out with his gloved hand and touched my face. I smiled up at him. I was now.

"Okay," I agreed. Seemingly satisfied he leaned down to briefly brush his lips across my eager mouth. I wanted more, wanted to grab his practice jersey with both hands and pull his mouth back down on mine but instead I just stood there and waited for him to make the next move. It wasn't my place as his sub to make those kinds of moves.

"Get your things, wait at the hotel?" It was an instruction but it sounded like a question. I liked that he wasn't one hundred per cent sure of me. I kind of wanted to keep it that way.

"If that's what you want," I prompted, looking up into his eyes, my hands still itching to touch him. He growled, shook off one of his gloves, grabbed a hold of my ponytail and pulled my head back enough that he could capture my mouth more easily. He kissed me until my toes curled, until I could barely breathe, until I knew I'd need to change my panties at the earliest opportunity. Mental note to self, carry extra panties while around Jon...or wear none at all.

"Amongst other things," he growled in my ear so that I shuddered and all of the muscles south of my belly button clenched.

"Then yes," I whispered and went up on tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips before turning and, being sure to swing my hips in what I hoped was an enticing manner, I walked back out to the still waiting taxi with my head held high.


End file.
